


when the good times come it’ll all be that much better

by CassandraStarflower



Series: whenverse [1]
Category: IT (2017), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: (which is telekinesis and biokinesis, Abusive Parents, Accidental Soulbonds, Alcoholic Maggie Tozier, Angst, Balloons, Being Mentally Way Older Than You Are Physically, Changed the rating, Cryokinesis, D A R K, Electrokinesis, Fix-It, Fluff, Gore, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, In chapter seven, It gets dark, I’m sorry, I’m tired, Latin/English Dictionaries, Magic Books, Minor Mind Control, Multi, Neglectful Tozier Family, Nightmares, No graphic rape, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Suicide Attempt, Patrick Hockstetter is His Own Warning, Poly Losers - Freeform, Probably ooc, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Bond, Psychokinesis, Saving Georgie, Sentient Objects, Soulmates, Stan & Richie Friendship, Stranger Things references, Superpowers, Telepathy, Time Shenanigans, Time Travel, alvin dies, and uh something else that i can't explain oops, bonus book characters, changed some tags, chapter eleven may be triggering, chapter fifteen may be triggering, dr. handor's poor poor secretary, eventually, extreme and medically inaccurate side effects from a pill, force fields, geokinesis, i guess some mild body horror, i made up a pill, i swear i’ll finish the other fics someday, icicles growing from the ceiling, in chapter six i mean, maybe a little crack-y, multi-chapter fic, neither does georgie, no editing, no losers die, oops i made it a stranger things crossover, patrick hockstetter aka creepy mccreepster, people gonna die, probably dehydrated worms, pyrokinesis, richie cries a lot oops, something, sonia's kinda creepy, that’s the end game ship, the losers are the most overprotective friend group ever, the losers time travel and get superpowers and kick ass, vague references to carrie if you pay attention, we die like, we hate alvin marsh, which will become more, who is something of a self-insert, wow am i destructive my goodness, wtf is this, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-08-25 02:52:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 32,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16652893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassandraStarflower/pseuds/CassandraStarflower
Summary: Three years after that fateful summer, the Losers are drifting apart. Their memories are fading.And then everything changes yet again, with one book, one afternoon, one sentence.Now, the Losers have no choice but to stick together, with no idea of what is happening, no idea of how they are supposed to deal with this…How the hell are they supposed to cope with time travel?Or… Ben finds a book at the library and takes it home. That afternoon, he shows it to the Losers.Then they accidentally are flung four years into the past, the day that Georgie died.





	1. we’re all grieving (lost and bleeding)

**Author's Note:**

> This is really just something I’m writing for the heck of it. Also, it’s my first IT fic, so please go easy on me, I may not have the characters down. Chapter title comes from The Only One by Evanescence, story title comes from Still Breathing by VERIDIA.

The library shelves were dark in this corner of the library, and Ben wasn’t sure why he’d decided to wander over here. The books were all older, musty and crumbling. He scanned the shelves, reading various titles, all of them unusual.   
Magick Moste Evile- he frowned and moved on.   
For Thy Darkest Thoughts- he didn’t even know what that meant.   
The next book was titled simply- Tempus Magia. He found himself pulling it off the shelf- it was heavy, the cover a dark reddish-purple, dull gold-leaf forming the title. He opened his bag, moving slowly- a nearby patron noted his rather blank face as he did so, but said nothing, not realizing he was hiding the book.   
He blinked, realizing that he was already at home, in his room, the book lying on his desk. How had he gotten here? What the fuck?   
He’d taken that book? He couldn’t even read the title. He definitely didn’t remember anything past taking it off the shelf.   
Ben stared silently at the book, lying innocuously on his desk, and couldn’t quite suppress a shiver, half-formed memories of projector slides and newspaper articles researched in a trance coming to the forefront.   
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Richie woke up with a hastily-muffled cry, clapping his hands over his mouth, shaking.   
Another nightmare. He slowly lowered his hands, eyes darting around his room. He could barely see anything- right, he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He fumbled at his nightstand, found his glasses, and jammed them on.   
Nothing. His room was empty of any living thing beside himself.   
God. He was so fucking sick of this. Every fucking night. He knew was caused maybe two-thirds of the nightmares.   
Patrick fucking Hockstetter.   
Even the thought made his sick to his stomach.   
The other third were a mystery.   
He dismissed the nightmare, a blurry collage of doors slamming and missing posters and screaming. Doesn’t matter.   
Deep breaths, Richie. Deep breaths.   
It wasn’t working. Shit. He got up, grabbed a sweatshirt, and pulled it on, followed by some shoes.   
Richie ripped a piece of paper out of a notebook and scrawled a note on it, sticking it on his pillow, then left, creeping down the hallway, out the front door, to his bike. Climbed on and pedaled away.   
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Stan woke up to a tap on his window. Not again. Richie had had another nightmare.   
He rolled over and got out of bed, crossing to the window and letting the other boy in.   
“Again?” he asked. Richie grimaced, then forced a smile.   
“Nah, I just wanted to see your pretty face.”   
“Beep-beep Richie.” Stan snapped, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, take your shoes off and get in the fucking bed.”  
“Ooh, already?” Richie wiggled his eyebrows and pulled his shoes off.   
“Richie, you have been sleeping in my bed since kindergarten.”  
Richie just grinned and flopped in Stan’s bed. Stan followed him over and slid in next to him, pulling the blanket over them both. He glanced at Richie, noted that the other boy was no longer smiling, and pulled off his glasses, setting them on the nightstand. Richie whined, poking Stan’s side.   
“Were you just going to sleep with those on?” Stan asked, raising an eyebrow.   
“Nooo…” Richie rolled over and shut his eyes.   
Stan sighed and scooted closer, wrapping an arm around Richie’s waist and tugging Richie toward him. They snuggled together and dropped off.   
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Bill was still awake. He knew, logically, he shouldn’t be. It was two in the morning. But he couldn’t sleep.   
Why was he still awake? He felt cold, even though he’d wrapped himself in six blankets. He stared blankly at the wall.   
What the fuck was wrong with him?  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
No one slept well that night. The next morning, every Losers’ house got a call from Ben.   
Maggie Tozier was in the middle of breakfast when Wentworth came down the stairs with the note, frowning.   
“He went to Stan’s again- this is the third time this month.”   
She frowned, too. “We should talk to him. This is getting a little out of hand. I don’t mind him going to a friend’s, but-”  
The phone rang. She answered. “Hello?”  
“Hi Mrs. Tozier. Can I talk to Richie?”  
“Oh, hello, Ben. No, sorry, he went to Stan’s house.”  
“Oh, okay. Thanks anyway.”  
Ben called every house, asking each Loser to meet at his house. This was the first time they’d all met up someplace outside of school in a year. They’d gotten together in smaller groups, yes, but not all together.   
They trickled in one at a time, except for Richie and Stan, who came together.   
Once they were all in Ben’s room, Bev spoke.   
“What is it, Ben? Why’d you call us all?”  
“Something… weird happened. Yesterday. Really weird.” Ben replied.   
“What happened?” Eddie asked. Ben shifted uncomfortably and picked up a musty old book.   
“I found this on my desk. Last night. It was on a shelf at the library, but I don’t remember grabbing it… or leaving the library, or walking home.”   
Everyone tensed, confused.   
“You’re not playin’ a joke on us, are ya, Haystack?” Richie asked, forcing a smile.   
Ben shook his head. “No, I’m not. I don’t even know what the title says.”  
Stan leaned forward and took the book. “Looks like Latin.”  
“Latin?” Richie scoffed. “Oh, don’t tell me. You read Latin.”   
“No, but I have a dictionary at home.”  
“G-go get it.” Bill said rather authoritatively, having taken the book and flipped through it. “The h-h-h-whole thing’s in L-latin.”  
Stan hesitated. Bit his lip. Then got up and headed out.   
In the time it took for him to get back, the other Losers sat uncomfortably. Bill flipped through the book, hunting through the Latin words. Ben watched him, uneasy. Bev laid her head on Ben’s shoulder and stared at the others. Mike and Eddie struck up a conversation. Richie remained eerily silent, staring out the window with an oddly blank look on his face. (This was not remotely comforting for the others.)  
Stan finally returned with the dictionary and sat down with it.   
“Here, hand me the book.” Stan ordered, holding out a hand. Bill handed the book over silently as everyone focused on Stan.   
“I’m going to translate the title first.” Stan mumbled, flipping through the book. “Magia… what the fuck.”  
“What?” Eddie asked.   
“Magic. Tempus…” Stan started flipping through the book again, a scowl pinching his face. “Time. Time Magic. The book’s called-”  
“Time Magic?” Richie repeated, snickering. “What the fuck does that mean?”   
“Do I look like I know?” Stan snapped. “According to my dictionary, that’s what it means. I only got this thing to use for scientific names anyway-” he slammed the dictionary. He went to do the same with the other book, only to freeze- it reopened itself and pages started flipping.   
Stan, naturally, threw the book onto the floor. The Losers all scooted away, unknowingly forming into a ring and grabbing each other’s hands- Bill grabbed Bev’s hand, Bev grabbed Ben’s hand, Ben grabbed Stan’s hand, Stan grabbed Mike’s hand, Mike grabbed Eddie’s hand, Eddie grabbed Richie’s hand, and Richie grabbed Bill’s hand.   
The book started to float.   
“Ho-ly shit!” Richie whispered.   
The book started to glow. It got brighter and brighter and brighter and-   
Nothing.


	2. the nightmare i built my whole world to escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Losers wake up in the past, Georgie makes an appearance, Bill is sad, and Richie and Bev get accidentally shipped by Gretta Keene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I’d give y’all a little something before I go on Thanksgiving break. Thank you to everyone who read left kudos, or commented, and to those who may have found one of the book titles familiar, yes it’s from Harry Potter. Also, I’d like to thank mugsandpugs and aussiebornwriter, whose beautiful Patrick/Richie fics really inspired that referenced little bit of trauma- though I must confess I have not read all of If You Can’t Laugh (You’ll Cry) because I can’t watch him being tortured like that. (I’m trying, I’m trying.)  
> Chapter title from Imaginary by Evanescence.

Richie woke up with a sharp inhale.  _ What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck _ -

The others were gone- no, he was in his bedroom.  _ What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck. _

He sat up, fumbled for his glasses, and jammed them on his face. It was five in the morning. That was not helpful. 

He rolled to the other side of the bed to get out and froze. Something was wrong. His bed was bigger. 

He sat up and looked down at himself with horror. His bed wasn’t bigger.  _ He was smaller _ .

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was dark out, Georgie noted when he woke up. He wasn’t sure why he was awake all of a sudden, just that he was. 

He got out of bed, feeling scared now, and did what he always did when he got scared at night- made his way to Bill’s room. 

“Billy?” He crept into the room. Bill sat up, very suddenly, staring at him wide-eyed. 

“Juh-juh-georgie?” 

“Yeah. Can I stay with you ‘til it’s time for school, Billy? It’s real dark out.” 

Bill was still staring at him, and it made Georgie confused. This happened a lot, though Georgie was trying to be braver, like Billy. He still got scared, but he was trying. 

Georgie decided to dismiss his concerns and climbed onto the bed. Bill’s limbs slowly relaxed and he slumped back into the pillows. 

A new idea presented itself to Georgie- maybe Bill was confused because of the flu. He was still sick, maybe it was making him all confused at night too. 

Georgie quite happily nestled into Bill’s blankets and fell asleep, not seeing his brother’s frozen, bewildered look. 

Bill slowly reached out and put a hand on Georgie’s back. The little boy felt warm and real. And Bill seemed much smaller now than he had been when that book had started floating and glowing. 

The thought hit him all at once. 

_ We went back in time. Georgie’s alive. We went back in time. I can save Georgie _ . 

**_I can save Georgie_ ** .

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Actual morning dawned bright and early, leaving seven panicked twelve-year-olds to scramble for school- well, Bill couldn’t, as his mother had come in to wake Georgie up, felt Bill’s forehead, and shaken her head. 

As Georgie padded out of the room, Bill felt an irrational panic take hold of him. 

“Juh-juh-juh-Georgie!” he called. The six-year-old turned and looked at him. 

“What is it, Billy?” 

“... be careful.” 

Georgie frowned, looking confused. “Okay, Billy.” he said agreeably, before going out. 

Bill sat trembling in his bed, clutching at the blankets, before he reached for his sketchbook. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bev pedaled her bike as fast as she could, making her way to school as soon as she could, eager to find the boys and figure out what in the holy  _ hell _ had happened. 

She ignored the people looking and whispering at her as she jammed her bike into the rack and locked it into place. A bike was abruptly slammed into the rack next to hers, and a pale-faced Richie hissed “What the actual  _ fuck _ happened?” 

Bev let out a relieved cry, then slapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, thank God, I’m not the only one that happened to!” 

Richie nodded, looking tense. “I haven’t talked to anyone else yet…”

“Look, Beaver-ly and the Trashmouth!” a voice called. Gretta Keene walked up behind them surrounded by her syncophants. “A match made in hell.” 

“Damn right.” Richie muttered. Bev rolled her eyes- after an extra three years, the old insults just didn’t get to her as badly anymore. 

Gretta blinked, confused. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go with the nerds and losers. You said something, they blushed or stammered or looked at the floor, or they made some pathetic attempt at a retort. They didn’t-  _ ignore _ you. 

Bev and Richie sauntered off toward the school building, whispering together. They both seemed a wee bit more clumsy than usual- granted, Tozier was always a klutz, but he seemed even worse. 

“I’m way smaller than I’m used to.” Richie complained, squinting at the floor after tripping yet again and dropping his glasses. 

Bev scooped them up and put them back on the boy’s face. Her hands may have lingered a second too long- she pulled them away, trying not to blush. His cheeks flushed and he looked away, accidentally catching Patrick Hockstetter’s eye and tearing his gaze away again, quickly. 

Bev shifted and glanced around. “Hey, we have the same homeroom this year, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, and none of the others are in there?”

“Nope. Looks like it’s me an’ you…” he trailed off, trying to think of something clever and probably inappropriate to say. 

Bev grinned. “I’d’ve had to beep you if you finished that sentence, huh.” 

Richie grinned, then yelped as a hard shove collided with his shoulder. He hit the locker bank next to him and shook his head, dazed. 

“Hey!” Bev shouted. Hockstetter gave her a slow, creepy smile, then stared at Richie with a similarly creepy smile. Then he walked away, giggling to himself. 

“You okay?” Bev pulled Richie upright again. 

Richie shook his head again, feeling a little dizzy. “Y-yeah. Yeah.”

She frowned at him, then nodded slowly. “Let’s get to homeroom, huh?” 

Meanwhile, outside, Ben, Stan, and Eddie had located each other. 

“What the hell was that fucking book?!” Eddie demanded in a shrill whisper. 

“I don’t know!” Ben half-wailed. 

“Shh!” Stan hissed, glancing around. “Let’s meet up at lunch, with Richie and Bev, see if they got sent back too. Then after school, we can check in with Mike and Bill. And if you can, _keep an eye on Georgie_ because Bill will _fucking_ ** _murder_** us if anything happens!”

The other two nodded, feeling unsettled. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike did his chores quickly and numbly, unused to his smaller body. And afraid, so fucking afraid. The memories had been blurry- definitely clearer than the others, but blurry. 

Now… they were crashing back into his head- Bill in a headlock by the monster, Eddie screaming on the kitchen floor in Neibolt, Stan with his face covered in blood, Bev floating dead-eyed, Ben falling into Mike with blood staining his shirt, Richie hitting the ground so hard after It threw him off… 

And more, so much more, he was so scared. Had the others come back in time too? They had to have, he couldn’t handle being the only one who knew what was coming. He could  _ not _ handle that. 

He was in the house alone when the phone rang. Mike seized it and answered, voice shaking- “Hanlon residence.”

“Mike?” Bill’s familiar voice drifted over the line. 

Mike sagged against the wall. “Bill.”

“Oh th-th-th-thank G-god. The others…”

“Probably at school still. When school gets out I’ll go do my deliveries and find them, okay?” 

“O-o-okay.”

The conversation had to end quickly, because Bill’s mom was coming and Mike could see his grandfather right outside. But Mike couldn’t fight off a strong sense of relief- if Bill was here too, then the others were. No way they weren’t 

No  _ way _ they weren’t. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time lunch rolled around, all of the Losers at school were extremely twitchy, having been able to do nothing more than shoot each other significant looks the entire day. The bell rang and all five were out of their seats in moments and racing for the lunchroom, getting disapproving looks from the teachers. 

They found their table and sat, drawing weird looks from everyone else- until today, Ben had sat by himself and Bev had stayed in the bathroom the whole time. 

“The book was on my desk.” Ben said finally. They all shivered. 

“Well.” Richie said. “Creepy, huh? Anybody else getting weird bad memories of a clown?” 

Stan jolted and dropped his sandwich, cursing. Bev tensed and rubbed her neck. Ben rubbed his belly. Eddie stared at Richie, cupping his right arm. 

“Thought so.” Richie said, nodding. The others stayed uncomfortably silent for a long time. At least, until Bev broke the silence by asking Eddie if he planned on breaking his arm ‘this time’.

“No!” Eddie yelped, glaring at her. She laughed, pulling her ponytail over her shoulder. This broke the spell, and they all laughed and laughed- the lunch monitor glared at them but said nothing. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Turtle watched them, pleased. They would soon discover the gifts they had been given. They would do much good now; they would grow and thrive. Their bond would only grow now, the mingled blood becoming something much more. 

The children would heal now, particularly William, Beverly, and Richard. And Stanley, who if They had not brought the seven back would have died too young, bleeding out in his tub. 

The Turtle watched them and watched It, seeing the glowing threads that bound the Seven tight and the darker threads that bound them to It and to- others. 

The children would break those darker threads. The Turtle would do all They could to help. 

In the star-studded depths of the Turtle’s home, They watched Their little champions, those soul-bound Seven who would save so many others- and themselves. 


	3. i sold my soul to a three-piece and he told me i was holy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> or- the side chapter where we delve deep into Bev and Richie’s mindsets having to interact with their abusers yet again. Or- Richie forgot about the project he ended up partnered with Hockstetter on. Or- Bev goes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for references to rape and sexual abuse, Patrick Hockstetter, child abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, probable mental health issues, a writing style that I picked up from Stephen King, and superpower manifestations.   
> Please be careful.   
> Chapter title from Hold Me Down by Halsey. But also, I got into one of the colleges I applied to! Still waiting on the other two.

Unfortunately, the class right after lunch Richie had with Patrick. And no one else- none of the Losers, at least. He’d forgotten about the partner project that they’d been assigned the day Georgie had died. Today. 

He’d forgotten that he was partnered with Patrick Hockstetter. He’d forgotten how  _ easy _ it had been- so easy. 

_ We’re working on the project.  _ Over and over again (help me help me i’m drowning help me) and no one had noticed anything wrong. 

The teacher was calling out the names for the project partners. 

“Patrick and Richie.” she read and Patrick gave Richie a sickly smile. Richie felt cold. Within a few days of this in the last timeline he’d lost most of his innocence. The monster had taken what was left. 

“Okay, now move to sit with each other.” the teacher directed. Patrick got up and walked to the desk next to Richie, then stared at Betty Ripsom silently until she moved. It only took a few seconds and all Richie could think was (where’s my shoe) Neibolt and the monster pretending to be Betty (screaming and screaming and no no no where are her legs where the hell are her legs) and the fear. 

He kept his eyes forward until someone tapped his arm and (no no NO stop) it was Patrick. 

“Hey. Tozier. What’s our topic gonna be?” 

Richie couldn’t breathe (stop it hurts IT HURTS) and Patrick was looking at him  _ touching him _ (make him stop) and the window was- 

Everyone screamed, both from fear and disbelief, snapping their heads around to look at the window- it was cracking and his hands were buzzing and Richie still couldn’t breathe, fractures working their way up the window, spreading and Richie still couldn’t breathe  and the window shattered completely. 

Richie inhaled, wide-eyed (i made that happen) and staring, just like everyone else. 

_ Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit _ . 

The bell rang right at that moment and several kids shrieked again. The teacher started shepherding everyone out, looking terrified, and wouldn’t let her next class in. 

Seventh period, Richie had with the others, thankful- Social Studies. They were already there. He dropped his stuff on his desk, hands shaking. Betty rushed in right after him and grabbed his arm- he tensed instinctively but looked at her. 

The other Losers looked at them both, confused. 

“Did I hallucinate that or did that actually happen?” Betty demanded, voice shaking. 

“If you hallucinated, I hallucinated.” Richie responded. She nodded and went to her seat- he sat down, still shaking, and looked at the others. 

He leaned in and whispered, “I gotta tell you guys something, after school.” 

“What?” Eddie demanded. 

“After school!” Richie hissed, then he turned to face the front. 

_ He could still feel Patrick’s hand on his arm _ .

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After school, they walked to the bike rack and turned to face Richie. 

“Explain.” Stan said. 

Richie opened his mouth, then stopped, looking past them. 

“Mike!” he exclaimed- waited a moment for Mike’s answering smile- he bopped over to throw an arm around Mike’s shoulders. “Fancy meeting you here!” 

“Hey guys. I talked to Bill on the phone.” Mike offered. “He said to come over to his house.” 

“You can explain there.” Stan decided, looking at Richie- Richie’s smile melted off of his face. 

“Explain?” Mike asked. 

“Something happened.” Richie mumbled, grabbing his bike. The others grabbed their bikes too, and they pedaled off to Bill’s house. 

His mother was a little unsure about letting them in, and didn’t know three of them, but she caved and they headed up to Bill’s room. 

The moment they entered, they felt it. A powerful, electric sensation thrumming in their palms and chests. They all stared at each other, wide-eyed, as the feeling faded. 

“Holy shit.” Richie mumbled, recognizing it as a more powerful version of what had happened when the window had broken. 

“What the hell? What the HELL?” Stan rubbed his palms against his legs. 

Bev shook her hands in the air, wide-eyed. 

“We all fuh-fuh-felt that, right?” Bill demanded. A chorus of yeses came in response. 

“Okay, that was not normal.” Mike muttered, shaking his head. 

“Okay, that aside, can Richie please explain what he and Betty Ripsom both apparently saw?” Eddie demanded. 

Richie winced as everyone stared at him. “A window broke by itself- completely shattered. The whole class saw it. But the weirdest most fucked-up part is, I think I did it.”

“You… broke a window? Without touching it?” Stan repeated. 

Richie nodded. “I was on the other side of the fuckin classroom. And I felt this… tingly feeling in my hands, you know, like just now.”

Eddie started wheezing. Stan rubbed his palms against his legs again. Bev started combing her fingers through her ponytail. Bill stared out the window. Mike looked at Richie with concern. And Ben frowned, in deep concentration. 

Richie sank back into his own head, thinking about the window exploding, the violent shriek of shattering glass (he won’t stop TOUCHING ME) and the screams of his classmates. 

“That might’ve had to do with the time travel.” Ben said finally. “Maybe we gained powers. Do you know what might’ve triggered it?” 

Richie jumped, heart racing.  _ I know exactly what triggered it. _ “I (don’t say it don’t tell anyone they can’t know) don’t know.” 

Ben gave him a keen look, like he somehow was picking up on Richie’s panic. 

_ no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no _

“So the window just broke?” Ben asked. Richie nodded uncomfortably. 

“Does this mean we’ve all not only traveled back a good three or four years, but spontaneously developed superpowers?” Stan asked with a displeased look on his face. 

Richie snorted. “Sure, exploding windows. What a stupid superpower.” 

“But have we all developed superpowers, or just Richie?” Ben wondered. 

“God, I hope not just me. That be just fucking wonderful.” Richie grumbled. A pause. “Did I say that out loud?” 

“Yes.” Stan replied. They fell into a surprisingly comfortable silence. Then Bev saw the clock. 

“Fuck!” she yelped. “I gotta go, my dad-” she scrambled to her feet. Ben got up too and hugged her tight, while the other Losers remembered-  _ her dad hurts her _ . 

Bev left, and the others trickled out. Richie decided to go to Stan’s house instead of home- if he remembered right, his mother was in her phase of ‘don’t give a shit where he is, gonna drink instead’ and his father was probably at work and not always pleasant to be around, either. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bev walked home, her stomach in knots. She’d managed to mostly avoid her father this morning, just made him breakfast and went to school, but (i worry about you bevvie)... 

She climbed the steps of the fire escape and stuck her key in the lock. Turned it. Walked in and to her room, where she put down her backpack and sat heavily on her bed, (i worry a lot) looking up at the ceiling. Memories were cascading into her mind. 

The sweet poem on the postcard. Her hair vanishing down the drain. Jumping off the cliff into the quarry. Waiting outside the house on Neibolt Street. Swimming with the other Losers, riding their bikes through Derry, stealing cigarettes from the pharmacy while Bill, Stan, and Eddie snuck out. 

Her hands wrapped around a poker, stabbing it into the clown’s eye. Pennywise emerging from the wall, the projector clattering to the ground, her friends screaming. Blood spewing from the sink drain. Her father, holding her hand, crushing it, face shiny with sweat and teeth clenched and eyes dark. 

Pennywise’s hand closing around her throat. Blood dripping from the bodies of the missing kids. Calliope music. 

The deadlights. 

The  _ deadlights _ . 

(no no bright light white no fear scared now no no not scared scared so scared it hurts too bright is that daddy where am i what is this scared scared scared scared scared)

She remembered. 

She  _ remembered _ . 

The door opened and closed. She got up quickly and went to meet her father, straining to behave normally (i killed him i killed him o he’s dead i killed him) with him. 

“Hi, Daddy.” she said. 

“Hey Bevvie. Good day at school?” he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. It made her feel dirty. Her skin crawled. 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” He smiled slowly and let her go. “What’s for dinner?”

“What do you want for dinner?” she asked. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Richie flopped on the floor of Stan’s room, staring at the ceiling. Stan sat down on the floor near him. 

“Do you need to stay here tonight?” Stan asked. 

Richie heaved a sigh. “Probably. If I blew up a window because I got partnered with Patrick Hockstetter in class, I don’t wanna know what I might explode at home.”

“Oh, that’s why?”

Stan didn’t know any details, only that Patrick had ‘targeted’ Richie around this point in time. 

Richie had made sure of that. No one needed to know (i’m scared i’m so scared trapped no way out but i can’t make it stop) about…  _ that _ . 

“Yeah. That’s why.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a Tumblr! Come talk to be at cassandra-starflower please! 
> 
> I’m so lonely.


	4. who’s in the shadows (who’s ready to play)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see what’s going on with It and the Turtle, meet the rest of the Bowers Gang, and find out how Bill saves Georgie. It gives Richie a really bad nightmare and then…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so… if you’re still reading this, thank you. I hope you enjoy it. Chapter title from Game of Survival by Ruelle, which is pretty much an It theme song. Also, I cried writing Richie’s nightmare.   
> PS: Richie’s powers are like Eleven’s or Carrie’s. Bev is going to have electrokinesis, Eddie is going to have pyrokinesis, Ben is going to have force fields, and Mike is going to have geokinesis. And Stan is going to have cryokinesis. Bill is TBD.   
> CW for one use of the f slur, nightmares, and kissing.

“You’re a fool.” It hissed, staring at Them. They merely chuckled. 

“Are you disappointed that you won’t be able to destroy my Chosen ones this time?”

“I will find a way. You are old. You will die soon and where will your ‘chosen ones’ be? In the deadlights!” 

Again They chuckled. “You’re a starving creature of the dark. You can do nothing.” 

“You’ll see what I can do, old fool. You’ll see.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Henry Bowers was… bored. He leaned against the wall outside of the school building, flanked by Vic and Belch, watching little kids and older kids running out of the building after clubs. 

“Where’s Patrick?” Vic wondered. 

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Henry replied. 

At this very moment, the mystery was answered- Patrick slouched out of the building, darkly muttering to himself. He ignored them and walked off. 

Henry sneered to himself, wondering why he kept Patrick around. The guy was a total freak, a fag, and unreliable. Hard to keep under control, unlike Vic and Belch. 

“Where’s he going?” Belch asked slowly. 

“Hell if I know.” Henry snapped. He focused on a little snot-nosed brat who’d laughed at him that morning. “There, let’s get that one.” 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bill’s stomach was in knots. Georgie had just entered with the activity book and the paper.  _ What do I do what do I do what do I do _

“Can you help me make a boat, Billy?”

Bill hesitated.  _ I’ll go out with him. _ “Sh-sure.”

He made the boat, and Georgie excitedly said, “I wanna go play with it outside!”

“I’ll come w-with you.” Bill got up as he said it. Georgie frowned. 

“But you’re sick, Billy.”

“I’m a lot b-b-better today.” Bill said firmly. 

“Okay…” Georgie said hesitantly, not sure why Bill was so insistent on coming with him. He shrugged it off. It would be  _ way _ better with Bill there, after all!

They went out, letting the boat race through the gutter- then Georgie hit his head and Bill stopped to check on him. The boat raced onward, and Georgie let out a yelp and chased it. Bill chased him. 

The boat went into the sewers. “No!” Georgie wailed. Bill caught him by the shoulders when the six-year-old went to follow it. 

“L-l-leave it, Juh-juh-Georgie, I can muh-muh-muh-make another one.” 

Georgie paused to stare at Bill- normally the stutter was nowhere near as bad. After a moment, though, he again dismissed it and stared at the dark mouth of the sewers. A chill went down his spine and he didn’t resist when Bill tugged him away. 

In the sewers, a monster lay in wait, only to let out an angry snarl. The Turtle would try Their best to deny It the right to feed. Well, then It would feed on Their little favorites. If It tried, It could see what they had undergone in the previous timeline. It would feed on their fears, little by little, terrify them, ensure that those children would have their sanity shredded, their minds destroyed. 

And It would also feed off of the little boy. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Night fell. The timeline had undergone its second big shift. Georgie Denbrough had fallen asleep in his bed, safe and sound, with both arms. 

It crept through the streets, smelling someone’s fear. Richie Tozier was having a nightmare. Easy target- walking through dreams was simple. 

It slipped into his mind. Effortless. The boy was dreaming about It. It found manipulating the dream quite easy. 

Richie had been dreaming about the clown room again. But this time, as he pounded on the door, trying to open it, he heard Bill stop on the other side. Then Bill spoke. 

“Wh-whatever.” He walked away- Richie could hear him- he started pounding on the other door, yelling for Eddie again. 

“Bill?!” Richie cried, wrenching at the doorknob desperately. “Bill!”

“G-god, would you shut u-u- _ up _ for once in y-y-your fucking life!” Bill yelled in RIchie’s direction. 

Richie’s eyes widened.  _ No, no, what? _

He heard the other door open, and Bill’s quick footsteps- a call of “E-e-eddie?” 

Richie slammed himself into the door, clawing desperately at it as the lights flickered. It had stopped chasing him, maybe knowing Richie had no way out. Maybe knowing Richie had been abandoned in here. 

“Please!” he screamed, hitting the door again. Then he heard more footsteps. 

“Geez, does he ever shut up?” Bev asked with disgust from the other side of the door. 

“No, he doesn’t.” This was Eddie, whose voice was ragged. “Why’d we bother? I wanna go to the hospital- m’arm hurts.”

“W-w-we’ll get you to the h-hospital, Eddie- d-don’t worry.” Bill said. 

“Guys?” Richie’s voice was tentative. He checked behind him. Pennywise was crouched on the coffin, watching him. 

“Just shut up.” Stan’s voice was like ice. “You’re so annoying, Richie.” 

“Let’s just  _ go _ .” Mike said. Ben’s voice murmured agreement. 

Richie felt panic welling up in his throat. “Guys, wait-”

“Shut  _ up _ !” Bev yelled, and then they left. Just- left. 

“No!” Richie screamed, banging on the door again, yanking on the doorknob, pleading ‘til his voice went hoarse for them to  _ come back, please, don’t leave me, please, please, come back _ . 

A hand closed on his shoulder and he screamed, eyes widening- then he realized he was awake. He’d been dreaming, and now Stan was leaning over him, worried. 

“Richie?”

Richie opened his mouth and started sobbing. Stan’s eyes widened with alarm and he clumsily bent over to hug Richie. 

The two of them stayed like this for a long while before Richie recovered enough to speak. 

“What was it?” Stan asked softly. 

“Nightmare.” Richie sniffled. “About Neibolt… the clown room.”

Stan nodded- Richie had had nightmares like that before. 

“No, it was different.” Richie said. “I usually- it’s just normal. Like it really happened. But this time-” he broke off with a sob. “It was different- you guys just left!”

Stan caught his breath and hugged Richie tighter. “Left you… in the clown room?”

Richie nodded. “I know-” his voice wavered. “I know you guys wouldn’t really do that…?”

“No, of course not!” Stan said immediately and indignantly. “We’d never leave you!” 

Richie sniffled again and pressed closer, still crying. Stan hesitated. 

“Hey… hey, don’t cry.” 

“Sorry.” Richie whispered. 

“Don’t apologize.” Stan muttered. “It’s not your fault.” He hesitated again. 

Richie curled against him, the tears slowing. “I know you guys wouldn’t leave me…” he mumbled in a tiny voice. Stan made a split second decision and pressed his lips against Richie’s. Only for a moment before he pulled back. 

“Of course we wouldn’t.” Stan repeated. Richie stared at him wide-eyed. Stan exhaled shakily and pulled him closer, before lying back down. Richie snuggled into Stan, closing his eyes, and Stan lay awake, staring at the ceiling. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d done that after Richie had a nightmare, but every time he did that, he felt himself falling more and more in love. 

This was far from the first time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so yes, I love Richie and went off on a tangent, but It will also be attacking the others in their dreams. I just thought that was a good place to end the chapter.   
> So there’s a little more about Richie and Stan’s “friendship”... I hope nobody gets teary or anything over the nightmare, because I nearly cried. In class, while writing it. It’s a good thing my fourth-period teacher is really laid back and doesn’t mind me doing things like making videos or utilizing my pitiful Photoshop skills or writing fanfiction in class… especially since, frankly, there’s nothing else to do right now in that class.   
> Also, sorry about the use of the f slur, but that really is how Bowers feels about Hockstetter.   
> Also, the timeline undergoes its second big shift! (Number one being the Losers all interacting)  
> AND GEORGIE IS ALIVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	5. don’t cling to me (i swear i can’t fix you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bev discovers her powers and someone dies waaaaaay ahead of schedule. Also a bathroom gets wrecked. Why must I destroy Derry Middle School property, my goodness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who’s left comments, most particularly stanlonbrough and the_angry_pixie.   
> Title from Weight of the World by Evanescence.   
> I’m gonna angry write today, because I started my period and I’m miserable. So that’s why I’m killing someone off.

Bev lay on her back, slowly awakening from a deep slumber. Her hands were buzzing. She came fully awake on that realization, and stared at her lamp, which was wildly flickering. 

_ This is like what Richie mentioned, _ she realized. 

She focused on the lamp. She could  _ feel _ it. The light brightened slowly to full brightness. Her hands buzzed a little more, then the buzzing stopped. The light stayed on. She could still feel it. 

_ What the hell? _

Her dad’s alarm went off and her lamp turned off. She muffled the alarm without thinking about it and heard her dad yell. 

“What the hell!” 

She got up, wincing- she hadn’t meant to turn his alarm off. Pulled on day clothes. Waited by the door of her room. 

Her father entered the bathroom. She listened to him rattling around. The door to the bathroom opened, and he approached her room. 

“Morning, Bevvie.” he greeted her, kissing her head. She swallowed. 

“Morning, Daddy.” 

His hands started to slide down and she felt a surge of panic. This was accompanied by a surge in the wiring. Her lamp blew. 

Then her father was blown across the room, landing in a heap in the hallway. She clutched at her hair, feeling a buzz radiating through her entire body. Then she looked up. 

“Daddy!” She stumbled into the hallway and knelt next to her father. He groaned, eyes opening, and she tensed, scared now. Really scared. 

“... beverly…” 

He grabbed her wrist. Hard. “What… wh… what’d you… dooo…” 

“Daddy-” 

He yanked at her arm, pulling her down onto the floor next to him. She let out a cry. Her skin sparked and he released her, collapsing, going limp… 

She reached out- he wasn’t breathing. No pulse. She cradled his face and sobbed, ignoring the clock as it ticked down the hours. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The others, meanwhile, were already at school, by the bike racks. 

“Where’s Bev?” Ben wanted to know, looking around. 

“I don’t see her.” Stan muttered, avoiding looking at Richie and instead scanning the crowd. Richie did the same, causing several curious looks from the others. 

“We’re gonna be late.” Eddie said nervously. 

“L-let’s go in. M-Mike, can you…” 

Mike nodded. “I’ll go check on her.” 

As they walked in, Bill’s eyes lighted on the bulletin board and he froze. A very familiar missing poster was pinned up, bearing Richie’s name and face. 

Bill turned, looking for Richie, who was right next to him, staring at the poster white-faced. 

The others slowed to a stop, noticing both Bill and Richie staring at the board. 

“What the hell?” Stan hissed, eyes wide. Ben looked between Richie and the poster. Eddie pulled out his inhaler and wheezed. 

Richie wrapped his arms around himself, eyes fixed on the poster. “Shit.” 

“It’s messing with us.” Stan whispered. Then he shook his head and walked away, “I’m going to homeroom.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bill’s hands were shaking. The missing poster, after he’d saved Georgie and with no sign of Bev, had rattled him badly. And he couldn’t help but remember (it says i’m missing am i going to go missing bill it says it says) the poster in Neibolt and (you’re not gonna go missing richie) Richie panicking. 

The poster had rattled Richie too, Bill knew. 

God he hoped Bev was okay. 

_ Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay. _

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike dropped his bike next to Bev’s apartment block and raced up the fire escape. She’d promised to keep it unlocked for them, and when he got up there, he was easily able to get in. 

He heard sobbing instantly. 

“Bev?” He walked toward the sobbing and saw Bev, hunched over on the floor with her father sprawled out, singed, dead. Her wrist was mottled with bruising. 

She looked up. “Mike?” 

He knelt next to her and held out his arms. She launched herself into them and clung to him, crying. 

“I killed him, I killed him!” she wept. He rubbed her back and looked at Alvin Marsh’s dead body. 

He could smell ozone. 

“What happened?” he asked as softly as he could while still being audible. 

“I- I think I have powers. Like Richie but not- my skin sparked. I could feel the electricity.” 

His eyes widened. They’d honestly expected they’d all develop powers like Richie’s. Not, not this. 

He held her and she cried. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At lunch, they discovered that Bev was now here. She’d apparently been dropped off by the police, who’d come to her apartment. Her father had died. Some kind of electrical issue in the apartment. 

She leaned in and whispered, “I have powers now.” 

Ben squeezed her hand. 

“They called my aunt. She’ll come here soon, but until then I have to find someplace to stay.” 

“You could stay at my house.” Richie said reluctantly. “My parents are probably the only ones who won’t notice.”

Bev nodded. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As they left lunch, Richie got quieter, confusing the others as they split up to go to sixth. 

Richie entered his classroom with a quiet tension, trying to keep a rein on the buzzing in his hands. He’d broken a window, Bev had killed her dad, who knew what else might happen. He didn’t want to accidentally kill someone. 

He hadn’t told his friends, but he could feel people’s heartbeats. Pulses. Lungs expanding and contracting. He had a bad feeling that if he tried, he could stop someone’s heart. Keep them from breathing. Kill them without laying a finger on them. 

It was fucking  _ terrifying _ . 

He sank into his chair and stared straight ahead as Patrick sat down next to him. Betty winced sympathetically at him as she passed to her own seat and he remembered that she had been Victim Number Two. 

_ Mental note: keep her safe _ . 

“Hey, Tozier. We need to decide on our project topic.” Patrick said. 

Richie inhaled slowly and stared at the desk. Forced himself to talk. “Maybe-” He tried to remember what their subject had been last time. “Um…”

Patrick took over by suggesting they research serial killers. Yep. That had been their topic. 

“…okay.”  

“We’ll have to go to the library.” Patrick said, sticking his hand in the air. The teacher came over. 

Patrick gave her a very charming grin. “We need the library, can we go?” 

“Of course.” the teacher replied. 

Richie reluctantly went to the library with Patrick, feeling cold and numb. 

Patrick went to find a table and Richie started hunting through the shelves, fighting back panic (he won’t get off get off get OFF) and bad memories. He wasn’t gonna make it. 

He had to throw up. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maybe it had been a bad idea to go to the bathroom. Throwing up had been fine, then the toilet handle had flushed by itself. Then he’d gone to the sinks and a mirror had shattered. The faucet handles had turned without him touching them. 

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit shit shit, what the fuck!” 

He was wrecking this fucking bathroom. It felt like coils of energy were springing off of him. Uncontrollably. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bill wasn’t entirely sure why he suddenly felt like he needed to go to the bathroom. But he’d asked and now he was walking to the bathroom near the library. Why? 

This bathroom was practically on the other side of the school. 

That was when he heard a faint banging sound. 

He sped up and opened the door, stepped in, and froze. Richie was standing by the sinks, shaking, wide-eyed. The stall doors were slamming and opening, the sinks were turning on and off, a mirror was shattered… 

Bill made an executive decision and ran to Richie, wrapping his arms around him. He could feel energy coming off of Richie in waves, fierce and uncontrollable. Instinctively he reached out- not physically but mentally- and grabbed the energy. Richie gasped, body jerking, and Bill pushed the energy back, into Richie. 

The stall doors stopped slamming, the sinks stayed off- except for one, which stayed on- and Richie slumped into Bill. 

Bill rubbed the other boy’s back, realizing that Richie was, as a matter of fact, crying. 

“Sorry.” Richie mumbled. “I had a nightmare last night, and the poster, and Bev’s dad, and I’m partnered with Patrick Hockstetter for this class period, and…”

Bill frowned. If these newfound powers could so easily get out of hand… 

That… was not good. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Bill and Richie didn’t come to Social Studies, the other Losers damn near lost their minds. After the missing poster that morning, and the fact that Bill had saved Georgie, they were terrified that something might have happened. 

The moment the bell rang they scrambled outside, and found the two standing by the bike racks. Bill looked quietly thoughtful, staring off into the distance. Richie was staring at the ground. Mike had arrived and stood next to them, giving them a worried frown. 

“Guys!” 

Both of them looked up, startled, as the others raced over. 

“You scared us!” Eddie raged quietly. “Why didn’t you come to class?!”

“Well…” Richie mumbled sheepishly, “I accidentally… wrecked a bathroom… and Bill found me… so we just… decided to… skip.” 

The smell of ozone started wafting off of Bev. “Really?” She didn’t sound pleased. 

Bill frowned at her. “I-i-it was p-pretty bad, Bev.” 

“WHO THE HELL COMPLETELY SHATTERED A MIRROR IN THE BOY’S BATHROOM BY THE LIBRARY?!!!!!” an infuriated male teacher voice shouted from somewhere inside. Richie flinched. 

“Oops.” he mumbled. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, Bill lay awake, thinking about his apparent powers. He’d felt Richie’s powers. What the hell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit this was all over the place…   
> (I vow to myself that I will focus on the other Losers and what happens? Jeez.)   
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this literal mess. Also, no as a matter of fact I have no idea what Bill’s powers are. They’re… something. To do with being the leader. And, like, telepathy. Or something.


	6. always find my place among the ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill has a very bad nightmare. Bev spends her first night at Richie’s house. Eddie confronts his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m gonna try to write as much as I can before Christmas break so here’s another chapter! Also, there’s some very intense stuff in this chapter, I guess. Less intense than every scene with Patrick, but still fairly intense, and Sonia gets pretty creepy. Chapter title from Lithium by Evanescence.

It was cold even though it was summer. There was bright sunlight streaming through the windows but Bill couldn’t feel it. He wrenched at the doorknob desperately. He could hear Richie screaming for him to open the door on the other side. He could hear Richie stop. He could hear Richie’s footsteps getting fainter- was he going farther into that room? Why? 

Bill yanked at the door, terrified, knowing that Eddie was somewhere beyond that other door and he was alone and Richie was in immediate danger.  _ The door shouldn’t be locked- there’s no lock, there’s no lock, it must be jammed that’s all it’s just jammed any minute it’ll pop open and Richie will come running out and we’ll get that other door open and find Eddie and get the hell out _

Richie started screaming, somewhere on the other side of the door, screaming and screaming he was hurt, bad-

“Richie!” Bill screamed, pulling the doorknob hard. 

Richie wasn’t screaming anymore. 

The door drifted open abruptly. Bill let go of it and stared, silently. 

Blood. Everywhere. Richie lying on the floor, limp, bloody… 

Bill sprinted into the room and crashed to the ground next to Richie. 

The other boy’s eyes were glassy. He stared at the ceiling with a blank face. Blood spattered his cheeks and matted his hair. 

He was breathing. Bill reached for him, hesitant- Richie turned his head, stared at Bill, and managed- “Your fault-” 

He was dead- 

Bill let out one shuddering sob and woke up. 

_ Shit, shit shit shit, shit- I need to see him need to know he’s okay, need to _ -

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bev was pretty unsure about Richie’s house, because for one, she’d seen a beer bottle that Richie had hastily kicked under the couch, and for two, his mother- a beautiful woman who strongly resembled him- was asleep on the couch. 

Richie led Bev up the stairs and into his room, which was fairly messy- clothes and things strewn across the floor. 

“Um… you could sleep-”

“I can sleep in your bed, it’s not like it’s a problem… unless you have a problem with it?”

“No, that’s fine, that’s fine.” Richie mumbled. He glanced over his shoulder nervously. 

“Are you sure your parents won’t mind?”

“If we’re lucky, they won’t notice. If we aren’t, you might have to stay somewhere else. Dad’s been… grumpy… lately.”

Bev looked at him sharply, noticing the tone in his voice, but said nothing. 

They got ready to sleep- changing in separate rooms. 

It was some hours later that Bill came in through the window, crying. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Bill?!” Richie sat up, startled. “Are you okay?” He got up and crossed the room to Bill, who abruptly hugged him, tight. 

Richie squeaked, surprised, as Bill wrapped him up in a tight hug and cried. Bev got up and crossed the room, confused. 

“Bill? What’s going on?” Bev asked him softly. 

“Georgie’s okay, right?” Richie asked. 

Bill nodded. “I h-h-h-had a ni-nightmare-”

Richie hugged Bill back, not really understanding why that resulted in Bill coming to his house in the middle of the night and getting really clingy toward him. 

“What was it about?” Richie asked softly, walking backward with Bill still clinging to him until they reached the bed. 

“Y-y-y-you-” Bill broke off. “I-i-i-it was Nuh-nuh-n-Neibolt and I d-d-du-du-didn’t g-g-guh-get you out i-i-i-i-in t-time and you d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-died-” 

_ Oh _ .  _ That explains it _ . 

Richie hugged him tighter. “But in real life you did get me out. I was fine.” 

He hadn’t been, not really, not if you thought about the number of nightmares he always had surrounding the clown room. But Bill didn’t need to know that right now. Or ever.

Bev cleared her throat. “Um, what?” 

_ Oh, oh yeah, we never told anyone _ . “When we were in Neibolt, after Eddie fell into the kitchen, I got stuck in a room separate from Bill, and the door wouldn’t open. It was full of clowns and stuff… um, Pennywise showed up but Bill got the door open and I got out and Bill slammed it in that fucker’s face.” 

“ _ Oh _ .” Bev said, paling. They’d never realized that Bill and Richie had been split up at all. That there’d been a chance Richie wouldn’t make it out of there. His anger afterward made a lot more sense now. 

Richie didn’t say anything else, surprisingly- he just nestled his chin in Bill’s hair. Bev joined them on the bed after a moment. Richie tilted to the side, flopping onto his side and still holding Bill, who went with him without protest. Bev also lay down and the three of them cuddled close. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Early morning. Eddie was glaring at his mother. She was blocking the doorway out of the bathroom and insisting that he take his pills. 

“Take them, Eddie- you have to take them, they keep you healthy!” Sonia urged. 

Eddie shook his head. “No! They don’t do anything! They’re bullshit!” 

“Eddie!” she gasped. 

He took the pill bottle she’d been holding out and she smiled- until he turned around, dumped the contents into the toilet, and flushed. 

He turned back toward her and faltered. Her eyes had narrowed and gone very intense. She had gone very still, too. Her entire aura had changed and she was moving forward. 

“You need those pills, Eddie-bear.” she said. Sweetly, calmly. He stared at her. She kept moving forward. He backed up, pressing himself against the wall between the toilet and the sink. 

She kept coming and he had had enough. “NO!” he screamed, and he felt hot all of a sudden, skin burning. His head hurt, his stomach hurt, he felt like his very cells were on fire. 

“Stop it!” he spat, not realizing that she had stopped, staring at him. 

He didn’t realize he was on fire. 

He lost consciousness a few moments later. 

His mother ran screaming to the phone, dialed 911 and screamed that her house was on fire. That her son was burning. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bill sat bolt upright, eyes wide. The other two sat up too, confused, until they felt it. Cold. 

In the Uris house, Stan sat up too, a strangled sound escaping him. At the same time, Ben and Mike also sat up. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The fire department screeched up to the Kaspbrak home, which was indeed on fire. Sonia came running out hysterical, screeching about her baby. FIrefighters charged in and found Eddie at the center of the fire, mysteriously unburned but unconscious. They took him to the hospital anyway, in an ambulance, while they put out the fire. 

They took Sonia to the hospital too, as she hysterically shrieked and screamed. Twenty-six minutes later, after she’d calmed and a doctor had examined Eddie, the doctor sat her down. 

“Mrs. Kaspbrak, does your family have any history of… well, unusual abilities?”

“What do you mean? What are you talking about?” she demanded. 

“Your son was at the center of the fire, yet he’s completely unharmed.” he said calmly. 

“Doctor, uh-?”

“Greene, ma’am.”

“Doctor Greene, my son is completely normal! Aside from how fragile he is, he is completely ordinary!” 

“Ma’am, I highly doubt that. May I ask what pills you are having him take?”

She glared at him suspiciously and rattled off a long list of pills ending with, “And Psypress.” 

“There’s the explanation.” he said, a frown on his face. 

“What?”

“Psypress is very dangerous, ma’am. It suppresses psychic abilities. Doing so has a long list of side effects.” He was digging around in his files as he spoke, and he now pulled out a sheet of paper and laid it on the table. “Physical frailty, asthma, stomach issues, nausea, headaches, nosebleeds, allergies, fevers, colds… even death.”

She stared at him. 

“How long has he been on Psypress?” 

“Y… years.” Sonia faltered. 

Dr. Greene shook his head grimly. “I suspect he hadn’t taken them recently and his powers unlocked in a very destructive way, setting fire to your house, but the effects of doing so forced him unconscious.” 

Sonia stared at him. 

“He needs to stop taking that pill. Continuing now will most certainly result in extremely dangerous symptoms. He may even die.” Dr. Greene rose to his feet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa boy did I go off on a tangent at the end there. PsyPress is a pill that I made up, which suppresses supernatural abilities. It was created after the Black Prom by several scientists who had also been working on Project Psychic (Eight and Eleven from Stranger Things along with several other kids), thus had ready access to psychic test subjects. The pill can indeed cause death. Most of Eddie’s issues come from a combination of Anxiety and PsyPress. Sonia put him on it when he was fairly young, after his father died. Yes, he may have unlocked them had the Turtle left it alone- same as the others. It’s much more unlikely though, and wouldn’t have been as powerful.   
> (Yes, I have a very complicated universe in my head, but don’t worry, none of that will overlap into the storyline.)  
> Official warning- sometime next week I will likely post a new story for IT entitled ‘can you hear me can you feel me in your arms (holding my last breath)’.


	7. feel like we’ve been falling down like these autumn leaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Losers learn from an angry Sonia what happened to Eddie, and Richie remembers something. Bev’s aunt arrives in town. We meet Dr. Russ Handor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you who read that other story… I’m sorry. This will be more cheerful. Nobody will die. Yet.

The Losers did not know how they had known to go to the hospital, but they learned from the front desk lady that Eddie indeed was here. 

The waiting room was not crowded at all this early in the morning. At least it was a Saturday and they didn’t have to worry about getting in trouble for missing school- although Richie was pretty sure he’d be in trouble for waking his dad up as he, Bev, and Bill had left the house. 

Then Sonia Kaspbrak came sailing through the door with her face full of anger. 

Bill immediately jumped to his feet. 

“Mrs. Kaspbrak, whu-w-what happened to E-e-Eddie?” 

She gave him a level look. “There was a fire and he is now unconcious, and the doctor has ordered me to take him off of one of his pills! Imagine PsyPress doing harm!” She tsked and stormed off, while Richie sat bolt upright, eyes wide. 

“PsyPress?” Ben repeated, confused. “What’s PsyPress?” 

“Richie?” Stan asked, looking at the trashmouth. 

“I think I know what PsyPress is.” Richie stated. 

They all looked at him, confused. 

“How? Your parents aren’t like Eddie’s mom.” Stan responded. 

“No, but… I don’t remember, I think I was seven, but my dad put me on a pill and I think it was PsyPress.” Richie frowned, remembering that little red pill. It had looked so harmless, but… 

“What’d it do?” Mike asked curiously. 

“It made me throw up a lot.” Richie said honestly. “I think I took it for a week and I had a really fucking bad headache the whole time, and I threw up so fucking hard I got a nosebleed at one point, and I had a fever. But when he gave up on making me take it that all went away.” 

He remembered other things, too- his nails had gotten all brittle, his ears had rung a lot, he’d spent most of that week in front of the toilet worshipping the porcelain god by throwing up, his vision had actually cut out at several points which had always resulted in half an hour of his terrified screaming, and to top it all off he had thrown up blood about the seventh day. That was when his dad had given up, partly because of the extreme side effects, partly because he was sick of RIchie screaming every time his vision went out. 

“Jesus Christ.” Mike said, eyes wide. “And Eddie’s been taking that this whole time?” 

“Apparently.” Richie agreed, thinking of the utter and complete terror of vomiting and seeing the toilet full of thick red clotted blood. 

He’d screamed then, and his mom had peeked in ready to pat him on the back and go, “Don’t worry dear, your eyesight will come back,” and she’d screamed too, seeing the toilet full of blood. His dad had run upstairs and looked in the toilet and his face had gone white and he’d grabbed the bottle of pills and run downstairs and called someone and cussed them out. 

“So…” Ben looked uncomfortable. “This pill is really bad? I thought all of his pills were just placebos.” 

“Well given that I’m pretty fucking sure that it made me throw up blood, yeah, pretty bad.” Richie remarked. The others stared at him wide-eyed. 

“B-b-blood?” Bill demanded. Richie reconsidered saying so, winced, and nodded. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, Molly Marsh had arrived at the police station. Police Chief Borden and Officer Bowers greeted her. 

“Miss Marsh, welcome to Derry.” Borden said cheerfully. Molly looked around the station, lips pinching. 

“More like welcome back.” she remarked. “I lived here as a child, after all.” 

Molly Marsh was Alvin’s thirty-four-year old younger sister, who had fled Derry as soon as she graduated high school. Where her brother had become a janitor, she had taken on odd jobs like waitressing and such for several years before becoming a seamstress at a small family-owned shop in Portland. Luckily for Bev, the family had been thinking about opening a shop elsewhere. 

When Molly had gotten the call that her brother had died and her niece orphaned, she had instantly agreed to come to Derry. She’d met Beverly once or twice and found her a lovely young lady, and, having coped with her brother for some years, she sympathized greatly with her. 

She’d told her bosses fully expecting to have to quit, but they had eagerly told her they could open a shop in Bangor, which was close enough that Molly could easily commute there for work. She’d been brought to tears by this, but all her bosses had said was that she needn’t cry and to go take care of her niece. 

“We weren’t expecting you so quickly.” Borden told her. 

“Well, my bosses were very understanding, so here I am. Where’s my niece?” 

“Ah, yes.” Borden coughed awkwardly. “About that.” 

Molly’s eyes narrowed. 

“We may have just told her to stay with a friend for the time being, and we aren’t entirely sure where she’s staying. We’ll send someone to look for her and have her come here, of course.” 

Molly sniffed quietly, lips pinching again. 

Borden hastily sent Bowers to go find Beverly, wondering to himself how one thirty four year old woman could be that terrifying. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eddie woke up three hours after arriving in the hospital. His mother having stormed off to find their usual doctor, the first visitors allowed in were his friends(including Bev, who hadn’t yet been located by Officer Bowers). 

“Eddie!” they chorused. He blinked at them, bleary. 

“Give him time, he just woke up.” Doctor Greene scolded. They all nodded until he left the room, then raced to crowd around the bed. 

“Hey guys.” he croaked. “They said I was in a fire?” 

They all nodded again. 

“I think I manifested powers.” 

“Well shit.” Richie remarked. “We’re a destructive bunch, huh?” 

“Beep-beep, Richie.” Ben said quietly. Richie looked down. 

A throat cleared in the doorway and everyone jumped, turning. Officer Bowers stood by the door, staring impassively at them. 

“Beverly Marsh? Your aunt’s at the station.” 

Bev blinked once, wide-eyed, then nodded, glanced at the others, and mumbled, “See you guys.” 

“See you.” Ben returned with a sweet smile. She smiled back and walked out. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bev approached the station with mild trepidation. Her aunt had already been semi-established in Bangor in September, when Bev had finally gone to live with her. They’d spent two months in Bangor before moving back to Derry. 

_ How is she going to respond to this? It’s months earlier, she’s not in Bangor yet _ .

“Hello, Beverly.” Molly said gently, smiling. 

“Hi.” Bev said, feeling suddenly shy. 

“Alright then, this is handled.” Borden said dismissively. “If you’re taking her to Portland or wherever, you’ll probably need to talk to the school.”

Molly’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. You haven’t done a thing to confirm my identity and I haven’t seen her in years. For all you or she knows, I’m some stranger with red hair. You didn’t bother to find someone for her to stay with… there are so many things wrong with this situation.” 

Borden stared blankly at her. “You’re the aunt, the nearest living relative, her dad’s dead, what else were we supposed to do?” 

Molly shook her head slowly, a scowl on her face, before she turned to Bev. “We can probably use your dad’s apartment until I can get one here?” 

“Yeah.” Bev breathed, startled.  _ I’m staying, I’m staying, I’m not leaving my boys for even a few months _ . Wait.  _ My boys? _

She examined that thought as she and her aunt walked to her dad’s apartment. 

_ They are my boys. Every one of them, and I love them all _ . This thought was mildly terrifying, but it explained her blush response when she’d put Richie’s glasses back on at least.  _ My boys _ . 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Russ Handor had been paid considerable amounts of money by the rather shady organization who had given him those pills. His job was to find children who might be psychic and prescribe the pills. 

He had been called out on the bullshit twice thus far. The first time was six years ago, when an infuriated Wentworth Tozier had called him and cussed him out over the admittedly shockingly severe side effects his son was exhibiting. The second was when a stranger- a teenage girl with a strange accent- had called and threatened him with death if he continued to distribute PsyPress. He had dismissed it. 

Until. 

Until the White Coat Murders had started. 

Until the White Coat Killers had popped into the national spotlight. At least in his field. 

Now he was a little bit worried. No one could possibly discover his ties to Project Psychic or any of the scientists there. He’d covered his tracks too well. 

Hadn’t he? 

He had just sent a furious Sonia Kaspbrak out of his office and now he grabbed a piece of stationary and started writing. He had never heard of PsyPress allowing such a violent manifestation of powers. It was concerning. He needed answers. 

He walked out to his receptionist with the letter now tucked into an envelope and handed it to her. “Mail this, please, Miss Baum.” 

“Yes, Doctor.” Miss Baum replied, taking the letter. He went back into his office and locked the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to look up Eddie’s doctors name- oof. Hope you enjoyed! (And you get a cookie if you correctly guess the identity of the girl who called Dr. Handor; or I'll write you a fic if you want.)


	8. you can’t wake up (this is not a dream)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Hale is the first child to be taken. The Losers split up. Eddie goes home, Bill checks on Georgie and lets his parents know he isn’t dead, and Richie tries to avoid home. Also Richie accidentally commits what could probably be qualified as a homicide, or more likely manslaughter. Stan manifests his powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter title was from Empty Gold by Halsey. This chapter title from Gasoline by Halsey. this get’s pretty dark toward the end, just to warn you all.

Peter Hale had spotted a familiar little brat wandering down the street. Tozier. 

“Hey! Four-eyes!” Peter was failing a class and had gotten a severe lecture from his father that morning, and wanted to take it out on someone. 

Richie turned and his eyes widened.  _ Shit shit shit shit shit _ ! He ran. Peter Hale gave chase. 

What followed was ten minutes of Richie dodging through alleyways and down side streets while Peter followed, tenacious. 

Richie sprinted across a bridge, glanced down- shit. Clown. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck he was gonna die. 

His chest was buzzing. Everything felt like t was in slow motion as Peter caught up to him, RIchie turned and lifted his hands, Peter stopped dead, legs working furiously, Richie couldn’t breathe. 

He held Peter back, watching the older boy’s face screw up with rage. 

Acting on instinct, he threw his hands to the right, and Peter flew off the bridge, crashing into the Canal. 

The sounds that followed had Richie clamping his hands over his ears and hunching down into a ball, eyes squeezing shut. 

He’d just fucking killed someone. 

He’d just fed the fucking monster. 

Fuck. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eddie still felt overheated, curled up on his bed. His mother kept fussing. Apparently one of his pills had caused it? 

He didn’t understand, but before the others had left and he’d been taken home, Richie had told him about being forced to take it by his father for a week, and experiencing really bad side effects. It scared Eddie badly, the idea that that pill could have done that to him. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bill went home to discover his entire family in the living room staring at him impassively. 

_ Uh-oh, _ he thought. 

“Billy! Where’d ya go?” Georgie raced over to hug him. 

“Yes, Bill, where did you go?” his mother demanded coolly. 

“Um…” Bill hesitated. “I w-w-went to Ri-richie’s house and then we went t-t-t-to the h-h-hospital b-because Eddie was in a f-f-f-fire-” 

“Oh  _ no _ !” 

As he had planned, his parents were sufficiently distracted from his disappearance. 

“Is he alright?” Zach asked. 

“Y-yeah, he was unconscious but n-n-n-n-not burned. His m-muh-muh-m-mother’s fuh-freaking ow-ow-out though.” 

Sharon’s nostrils flared. She’d made her opinion on Sonia Kaspbrak quite clear- to her husband, at least, though Bill had overheard her frequent anger on the subject, and she often told Bill not to take the things Sonia said seriously. 

“That woman.” Sharon muttered. “At least he’s alright.” 

His parents promptly forgot about it. At least they’d noticed him for once. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Richie wandered down a side street and froze again. This really was not his day, was it? 

His father’s car was idling on the other side of the street. Wentworth Tozier himself leaned against the driver’s side, smoking. 

“Richard.” Went called. Richie felt cold. He walked across the street obediently- you wouldn’t recognize him around his dad. 

He could remember, vaguely, a time when Went and Maggie had been loving parents who delighted in his outgoing, cheerful manner. That hadn’t lasted long. They’d lost interest in parenting and he’d become progressively wilder. Then kindergarten had rolled around and he’d befriended Bill, and his teachers had been impatient with this rather feral five-year-old, and he got in trouble more and more often, and his parents had gotten angrier, and somehow his father had fallen out of love with his mother. 

So Went started cheating on Maggie with younger women, and Maggie started drinking. When Maggie started drinking, she stopped caring about Richie. Or she cared too much. Didn’t love him at all or loved him too much. 

He didn’t like to think about that. 

Went started getting violent, too, and he smoked more. Things had gotten worse and worse and worse until Richie was fourteen and a half and couldn’t take it anymore. He’d tried to kill himself. Stan had been the one to find him and gotten him to the hospital, and suddenly Went and Maggie had to pretend to care again. 

But all that hadn’t happened yet here. So Richie was scared. So scared. 

Went clapped a hand on Richie’s shoulder and said, “Get in the car, son. We need to have a talk about this morning.” 

Richie got in the car. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This was a problem. Stan lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, watching an icicle slowly growing. 

This was a Problem with a capital “P”. He knew he was causing the icicle to grow like this, but he didn’t know how to stop it. How the heck was he supposed to control ice powers that he apparently had? Why had these powers manifested just now? He wasn’t in danger. 

Okay, he was. He’d been  _ thinking _ . Bad things. He’d promised himself after Richie’s suicide attempt that he wouldn’t make his own.  _ Promised _ himself. 

Had the ice appeared as a response to his own self-destructive thoughts? Unable to lash out at any physical threat so simply  _ there _ ? 

How the hell did supernatural powers work, even? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, Another Chapter! I literally posted what, a day ago? Yesterday? My memory’s shit.   
> And Stan… I feel you. How the heck supernatural powers work is something I constantly question.   
> Next Chapter: What happens to Richie, Dr. Handor’s letter is answered, and I create a character for the sole purpose of killing them off.   
> Oof this was short. Whoops.


	9. fly forever (don’t let me go)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie turns up at Bill’s house after his father has a ‘chat’ with him. Dr. Handor gets a letter and expects a visitor. I create a character based off of a classmate that I dislike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit this is the longest any fic besides Fate’s Expose has gone for me… and maybe Olympus Asylum but I hate that and I’m pretty sure it’s got eight chapters only.   
> Chapter title from My Demons by Starset.

Richie stumbled down the sidewalk, holding his side, breaths coming short. His ribs flared with pain every time he breathed and also when he existed. His eye was throbbing. His left hand was messed up. He was covered in bruises. 

He was, in short, very fucked up. 

He also had no idea where he was going. 

Something made him keep walking in the direction of Bill’s house, even though he typically ended up in the Barrens or Stan’s house.

Maybe it was these newfound powers. 

He reached Bill’s house and threw a pebble at Bill’s window. A pause. He scooped up another pebble and tossed it. The window opened and Bill peered out, stared at Richie, and then disappeared from view. Richie waited, head pounding, right hand clamped against his ribs. 

The back door flew open and Bill raced out. It was getting dark. He had no idea why Richie was here. But now that he could see Richie better, he thought he knew. Well, he knew  _ someone _ had beat Richie up. The question was,  _ who? _

“C’mere, R-Richie.” Bill said softly. Richie stumbled over to him, clutching his ribs. He was in obvious pain, and a gash on his forearm was dripping red. 

Bill got him inside and to his room without Sharon or Zach noticing. Georgie did notice, and followed them to Bill’s room. 

“What happened?” Georgie wanted to know. 

“I just got beat up.” Richie muttered. “‘M fine.” 

“Whuh-why don’t you g-g-go to your room?” Bill suggested to Georgie, who frowned and wandered out, closing the door behind him. 

Bill sat Richie down in the desk chair and went to the bathroom to get first-aid stuff. He returned to find Richie grimacing and examining the gash. 

“Is it bad that I didn’t notice this?” Richie asked. “And that I can’t feel it?” 

Bill bit his lip. “P-probably.” He set down the bandaids and other supplies and sat on the bed, gesturing for Richie to scoot the chair over. Richie did, hissing in a breath between his teeth. 

Bill frowned at the gash and muttered, “Maybe we should go to the bathroom and use a washcloth to clean this.” 

Richie didn’t respond, so Bill just got up and tugged Richie upright carefully. It was Richie’s right arm that was gashed and his left hand looked bad. So great care needed to be taken. 

Bill sat Richie down on the toilet and grabbed his washcloth to clean the gash, frowning again. Richie had gone very quiet, sitting there staring absently at the gash on his arm as Bill gently cleaned it. Something was definitely wrong. 

Bill wrapped the other boy’s arm with bandages and started cleaning the blood off of the washcloth. 

“Are you o-o-okay, Richie?” Bill asked gently. 

“Yeah.” Richie whispered, now studying his left hand, which was reddened with bruising. 

Bill wrung out the washcloth and hung it up, then he and RIchie went back to his room. 

“Who b-beat you up, ‘Chee?” Bill asked gently, maneuvering Richie onto the bed. 

Richie looked at him, alarm in his eyes. The he looked away. “My dad.” he mumbled. 

Bill stared at him, alarmed. “Your d-d-d-d-d-d- _ dad _ ?” 

Richie nodded dully, pressing his right hand lightly against his ribs. “We woke him up this morning. He wasn’t happy.” 

It had been weird, though, his dad’s reaction. Went had told him it was nice to know he ‘wasn’t a fag’ but then had called him a fag? And had beaten him up so badly he’d lost consciousness at one point. He was pretty sure it had to do with Bev and Bill both being there. 

Everything hurt and nothing felt okay and Richie startled Bill by bursting into tears. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Dr. Handor?” Miss Baum entered his office, holding a letter. “You’ve gotten a letter.” 

“Oh, thank you, Miss Baum. Please, put it right over there.” Dr. Handor gestured at his desk while rifling through a drawer of files. 

Miss Baum deposited the letter on his desk and went out. Dr. Handor moved to his desk and picked up the letter, read the return address, and paled. 

_ The big guy himself, still around after all these years. My God, and he wrote to me himself. _

He grabbed a letter opener and slit the envelope open. Shook out the letter and started reading. 

_ Dear Dr. Handor, _

_ The issue you have raised is quite concerning. The notion that a child could manifest psychic abilities while taking PsyPress is alarming, particularly since he seemed to manifest them quite violently. I have already put a research team on it. You wrote of several children you had prescribed PsyPress to who had been taken off of the pill or were being taken off the pill.  _

_ If it is not too much trouble, I would like to travel to Derry myself to investigate. I would bring several others with me and we would stay at a hotel.  _

_ Please reply promptly.  _

_ Yours,  _

_ Martin Brenner _

Dr. Handor stared at the letter for several long seconds before grabbing a sheet of paper and writing a reply. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alexis stomped down the sidewalk, glaring at the houses. What a bitch. She couldn’t stop thinking about Beaver-ly’s fucking  _ face _ when Gretta had said something about that slut and the Trashmouth. 

Something was up with that. The slut and the trashmouth. Fitting, huh? Nice symmetry? They both had beaver teeth. And she’d had a talk with Patrick Hockstetter, so she supposed maybe guys didn’t just find Beverly  _ fucking _ Marsh hot. Though what kind of psycho would think Bucky Beaver was even remotely attractive… 

Right. Patrick Hockstetter was a psycho. He was really disturbing, but she tolerated his presence and listened when he talked about people because otherwise… well, this was the price for finding out about his fridge. 

She did not want to end up like the Larsens’ cat. 

“Alexis…” a voice drifted up into her ears from the sewers. She frowned, stepping into the street and looking down into the storm drain. A person appeared and she jumped back. It was Beverly Marsh, in the sewers. Smirking. Long red hair matted and filthy. Bruises on her face and neck. Teeth yellowed or rotten. Eyes blank silver disks. 

“Shit!” Alexis yelped, wide-eyed. 

“C’mere, Alexis. I wanna tell you a secret.” Beverly whispered, still smiling. 

“What the hell?!” Alexis found herself crouching anyway, confused- why- how- what was Beverly doing in the sewers?

“What are you doing in the sewers, Beaver-ly?” Alexis said as cruelly as she could manage. 

“I went down here.” Beverly whispered. “Wanna know the secret, Alexis?” 

Alexis couldn’t fight the surge of curiosity that brought her closer to the drain. 

“We all float down here, Alexis.” Beverly whispered, only she wasn’t quite- Beverly. Her face had clown makeup on it. Her eyes were still flat silver disks. Her hair was shorter. 

“You’ll float too.” the clown that was no longer Beverly whispered, teeth turning to fangs, eyes gleaming hungrily, a white-gloved hand floating out of the drain. 

Alexis opened her mouth to scream but never got the chance. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bill was still awake. It had been hours since Richie had fallen asleep, it was getting close to midnight, and Bill was still awake. He mindlessly ran his fingers through Richie’s curls, which he had long untangled by now. Silky soft against his fingers. 

He focused on that rather than Richie’s black eye and bandaged forearm and bruised hand and everything else. The fact that Richie had cried himself to sleep. The fact that Richie’s father and beaten him up badly. Everything. 

He looked down at Richie’s sleeping face, surprisingly serene despite the mottled purple skin around his eye. 

Bill leaned down. Kissed Richie’s cheek. Lay down next to him. 

He whispered, certain that Richie was asleep, “I love you.” 

Richie lay awake for a long time after that, having woken a few minutes before Bill kissed his cheek. 

_ Does he mean that? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m on a fucking roll. Wow.   
> Okay, now I need to make this a Stranger Things crossover, because I introduced Brenner, but I promise the main focus remains on the Losers.   
> God do I hate my classmate Alexis. That was weirdly cathartic.   
> I’m working on a new story now that would be a multi chapter story. It’s a Bichie fic where Bill is in charge of a gang and Richie is his hacker boyfriend. Let me know if you’d be interested in reading it and I’ll get the first chapter done faster. (If you’re curious, ask!)   
> Please leave comments or kudos, they make my day!


	10. we all live [and] we all die [but] that does not begin to justify you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Losers gather at Bill’s house. Dr. Brenner arrives in Derry. Richie ponders Bill’s words. Another kid goes missing. Uh, dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo i hope you enjoy this new chapter which is short but I’m trying to give you guys lots of chapters before Christmas break, which starts next Friday. Chapter Title from Bleed by Evanescence.

The Losers all arrived at Bill’s house late in the morning the next day. Sharon let them in with a smile, and they ran straight up to Bill’s room. 

Bill greeted them kind of absently and they noticed Richie flopped on the bed with his arm bandaged and his eye blacked. 

“Whoa, what happened?” Mike asked worriedly. 

“My dad beat me up for waking him up yesterday morning.” Richie muttered, picking at the bandage. 

“S-stop that.” Bill scolded him, grabbing his bruised hand gently. Richie still winced, and Bill let go hastily, cheeks coloring. 

Bev looked between the two of them with the faintest beginnings of a smile. 

Eddie walked to the bed and toppled himself onto it, looking tired and groggy. “Don’ wanna be ‘wake.” he whined, making Richie laugh. 

“Your dad beat you up?” Stan asked. 

Richie’s smile vanished. “Yeah.”

Bev considered. “Hey, do you know what would happen to you if your parents died?”

Richie squinted at her, confused. “I’d probably have to move to Indiana to live with my aunt and uncle. Why- wait.”

Bev winced. “If you’d have to move, never mind.” 

Richie frowned. “Don’t know whether to be more disturbed that you thought of murdering my parents or that I’d have to live with Aunt Karen and Uncle Ted. They have three kids already. But Nancy’s already in college.”

“Be disturbed about the ‘murder’ part.” Ben advised. Richie laughed and they all started talking at once, about the powers that had thus far surfaced, whether Ben, Mike, and Bill would manifest powers, what they could do with them, whether they should practice (everyone firmly on the side of  _ yes _ ), etcetera. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The car pulled up outside Dr. Handor’s practice and he swallowed.  _ He’s here. _

The man that exited the car walked with a cane and a slight limp due to some kind of attack five years ago. He was showing his age for certain. But there was a certain air about him that made Miss Baum swallow hard as she pushed the intercom button, that made her voice waver as she informed Dr. Handor that his visitor was here. 

“Show him in.” Dr. Handor ordered. 

“Certainly, Dr. Handor. If you would follow me, sir.” Miss Baum composed herself and led Dr. Brenner into Dr. Handor’s office, before meekly stepping back out and going to her desk, where she ate three chocolates in a row and screamed into her palms. 

Sometimes she regretted taking this job. It was not good for her stress levels.

Meanwhile, Dr. Brenner was casually flipping through the files that Dr. Handor had offered him. 

“Tozier, mother’s maiden name Wheeler- that sounds familiar.” Brenner mused. “Ah, yes, never mind- there’s a family by that name in Indiana.” 

“They are likely related.” Dr. Handor offered. “Mrs. Tozier has mentioned a brother in Indiana on occasion.” 

“Yes.” Dr. Brenner murmured, flipping open the next file. “Is this one the child that manifested pyrokinesis recently?” 

“Yes. Edward Kaspbrak, twelve years old. Mother Sonia Kaspbrak, a single mother with strong signs of Munchausen syndrome by proxy. Father Frank Kaspbrak, deceased from cancer nine years ago.” 

“And which of the parents would you say is more likely for the genes to come from?”

“Mr. Kaspbrak, more likely. He was very good at being able to tell exactly how you felt, no matter how well you might hide it. Mrs. Kaspbrak is… unique, perhaps, but not…”

Dr. Brenner nodded, examining another file. “This is quite a large assortment of children who were prescribed PsyPress. How many are still taking the pill?”

“Seventeen, not counting Eddie Kaspbrak. I had previously prescribed it to roughly forty children.” 

“For such a small town, the numbers are high.” Dr. Brenner remarked. “Fascinating.” 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alaina was in the bathroom, washing her hands. 

The drain gurgled and she glanced at it curiously. 

Something black bubbled out of the drain and a voice whispered. 

“come float with us come float with us alaina float with us we a l l float down here”

“Hello?” she whispered, staring at the black tarlike bubbling substance. It started to fill the sink and she backed up, horrified. Glanced into the tub and saw that the drain in there was bubbling with it too. The toilet began to overflow. 

“Mom?” she called. There was no response. 

“Hello Alaina.” a voice gurgled from the tub. She whipped around. A creature that looked like it was made of tar stood in the tub, bubbling sickeningly. 

“Do you want a balloon?” the creature asked, offering a incongruous yellow balloon. 

The balloon popped. Alaina screamed. 

By the time her mother came running up the stairs, Alaina’s head had been ripped off and her decapitated body lay on the floor, spurting blood. Her mother screamed. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Richie stared at his reflection, standing in Bill’s bathroom, pale-faced. His bruised eye was in stark contrast to his pale skin. His ribs were throbbing but he was pretty sure they weren’t broken. 

He looked down at his bruised hand and thought about what Bill had said. 

_ Did he mean that? Like not platonic? _

Richie’s hands were shaking and he kept thinking of his mom’s sleeping pills, tucked into the bathroom cabinet at home.  _ Then you don’t have to worry about any of it anymore dad can’t hurt you no one can _ . 

The mirror was trembling and Richie mumbled a quick “fuck” and stepped hastily out of the bathroom. 

_ What the ACTUAL FUCK did he mean by that? _

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two kids had now disappeared, and one family was preparing to move. Already. 

One man was dead. 

A house fire had started. 

One girl had had her head ripped off in the bathroom of her house, leaving blood splattered across the room. Her head was nowhere to be found, though her body was there. Her killer had taken the head with them. 

This had happened in the span of three days. Friday, Alvin Marsh had died. Saturday, fire and two kids had disappeared. Today, the murder of Alaina Hoye. 

Police Chief Borden rubbed his temples, not knowing. It would only get worse from here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so alaina hoye is also based off of a classmate. Look I need OCs because named characters have roles to play in the story.   
> Please leave a comment or kudos! I live off of them.


	11. who could find me in the darkest part of my guarded heart (and somehow love me still)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan confesses that he’s manifested his powers and why. Mike manifests his powers. Henry Bowers dies. Bev and Richie have an emotional conversation in a bathroom. Then Stan and Richie have an emotional conversation by the quarry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is an interaction between Bowers and Mike, in which I specifically avoid using the word that Bowers would honestly most likely use. Please understand that I am very uncomfortable using that word and don’t want to offend anyone.  
> Chapter title from Crazy in a Good Way by VERIDIA.  
> MAY BE TRIGGERING AT THE END. Richie has a long internal monologue/struggle regarding past events with Patrick Hockstetter.

“Um… I’ve manifested my powers.” Stan said. The others all turned to stare at him. 

The conversation had been relatively normal up until this point. 

“Um, what?” Bev asked. 

“I manifested my powers.” Stan was staring steadily at the opposite wall. “Ice. I, uh, made an icicle grow on the ceiling.” 

They all stared at him. 

“But…” Richie trailed off. “We all manifested our powers in response to something, like a threat.” 

“Yeah.” Stan said, stiffly twisting his hands together. “I, uh, I was… thinking some stuff. Some, some bad stuff. About myself.” 

Richie was the first one to put two and two together. “You promised.” 

Stan bit his lip. “Thinking is different.” he pointed out. 

“What?” said Eddie sharply. 

Richie looked kind of lost, and Stan felt like crying.  _ Stupid, stupid _ . 

“Sometimes I wanna die!” he blurted, not knowing how else to get it out. Richie scooted forward and hugged him tightly. Stan buried his face in Richie’s shoulder, starting to cry. 

The others looked at him wide-eyed, then rushed forward, awkwardly surrounding him and hugging him. 

Okay. Maybe he could be okay. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike was biking back to the farm, after a very emotional conversation with Stan and the others. They were pretty sure they’d figured out something of a system. Stan could come to one of them to talk if he needed to. Richie had volunteered to be Stan’s go-to, but Stan and vetoed that, giving Richie an unreadable look, then leaning over to whisper something. 

A branch snapped. Mike froze, putting his feet on the ground, and looked over his shoulder. 

Henry Bowers. 

Shit. 

“Hey, fuckface.” Bowers said. 

Shit. 

Bowers charged him, and before he could do anything, he was shoved to the ground, away from his bike. He cried out as his back slammed into the dirt. 

His hands started buzzing. 

The dirt gave under him, acting like a pillow. 

Bowers stood over him, smirking. “I’m gonna kill you, fuckface.” he snarled. 

Mike instinctively threw his hands up in front of his face. 

Dirt and rocks around him lifted into the air. The ground rumbled. Mike scrambled backward, and the ground split open beneath Bowers, who screamed as he vanished into the hole. It closed up. 

Mike’s hands stopped buzzing. 

The dirt and rocks dropped. 

Mike felt cold. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Richie had a panic attack in homeroom, and Bev was assigned to take him to the nurse. 

Everyone was laughing as Bev walked Richie out of the room and down the hallway. He could barely breathe, eyes squeezing shut, shaking. 

Why the hell did anyone find that  _ funny _ ? 

The nurse barely looked at them when they entered. “Just take him to the bathroom.” she said dismissively, a small smirk on her face. Bev scowled, knowing all too well what the nurse meant by that smirk, and walked Richie into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door. 

“Hey.” She sat him down on the floor, which was at least relatively clean. “Deep breaths, okay?” 

She grabbed his hand and put it on her chest, above her breasts. “Follow my lead.” she told him. He did so, cheeks red. 

Yeah, she was blushing too. But if there were any boys who she’d be okay with like this, Richie was one of them. 

A few minutes later, Richie was breathing okay and pulled his hand away, still red-faced. Bev relaxed. 

“You had me scared!” she scolded. 

“Sorry.” he responded, quiet, eyes down. Bev blinked, worried again. 

“What’s wrong?” she pressed. He blinked at her, looking kind of sick. 

“I just… I’m scared.” he confessed in a small voice. “My parents fucking suck and we’ve gotta fight It again and  _ he’s _ still alive-”

“Who?” 

Richie flinched. Actually flinched. Bev froze, heart racing.  _ Why did he flinch? Who’s he so scared of?  _ **_Why did he flinch?_ **

“…Patrick Hockstetter.” he whispered, and then he burst into tears. 

It took a good ten minutes to calm him down, and another ten minutes to get the facts out of him (heavily dressed up with a lot of self-hatred, shame, and unhappiness. She also learned that he’d attempted suicide in their past timeline.) 

She held him, stroking his hair and leaning against the door, humming a tune she’d heard somewhere and trying to calm him down. Homeroom was definitely over by now and she didn’t even want to know what the nurse thought they were doing in here. 

But they could worry about that later. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two class periods later they returned to class. Apparently, unfortunately, some of their classmates from homeroom had been spreading rumors about the two of them leaving for the nurse’s office and the nurse had told anyone who’d asked that the two had spent several hours locked in the bathroom. 

The other Losers were understandably worried, because they’d missed two entire class periods and most of homeroom. Not that they actually thought Richie and Bev had been doing what everyone said they’d been doing, but because somebody had said that Richie had been having trouble breathing when Bev had taken him to the nurse’s office. 

By the time lunch rolled around, all of them were wound tight. 

Richie and Bev were trying to ignore all the whispers as they made for the usual lunch table. They sat down, both looking ragged and exhausted. 

“Richie had a panic attack in homeroom.” Bev whispered. “The nurse just told me to take him into the bathroom and calm him down. Very helpful. I still don’t know how to stop a panic attack.” 

Bill whispered, “She didn’t d-d-do anything?” 

“She spread rumors about us.” Richie offered. 

“That’s not a helpful thing.” Stan sighed. 

“But it is something, right?” Richie seemed to be trying too hard to be himself. “I mean, if she’s gonna do shit it’s gonna be incredibly fucking unhelpful, right?”

“Beep beep, Richie.” Eddie snapped. Richie looked away. 

Bev sighed. “It’s not helpful that Gretta’s already spread all those rumors.” 

“Hey, speaking of rumors.” Ben straightened. “Did you guys hear? Peter Hale’s disappeared. So’s Alexis Merritt. And Alaina Hoye was murdered. Her mom found her body, but not her head. In the bathroom.” 

They all paled. 

Richie cleared his throat. “I, uh, I know what happened to Peter Hale.” 

Now they were all staring at him. 

“I may have, um, accidentally thrown him off the Kissing Bridge with my powers and Pennywise got him.” 

“You fed It?!” Eddie exploded. 

Richie flinched, emotions already run ragged. “I didn’t mean to!” His voice broke and Eddie deflated immediately, whispering apologies. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the end of the day, when they saw Mike waiting with a grim look on his face, they were all done. 

“Okay, fuck, what the fuck’s with the face, Homeschool.” Richie looked like he was going to either cry, throw up, or pass out. Or some combination of the three. 

“I may or may not have manifested my powers and killed Henry Bowers yesterday on my way home.” 

“Fuck. I’m done.” Richie grabbed his bike and swung himself on, then pedaled off. Stan shot a worried look after him. 

“I’ll follow him.” Stan assured the others, grabbing his bike. 

“He had a rough day.” Bev told Mike as they watched Stan pedal off. “He had a panic attack in homeroom, so I took him to the nurse’s office. She told me to take him into the bathroom and calm him down. I do  _ not _ know how to stop a panic attack. We spent most of homeroom and two class periods in the bathroom. When we went to third, we found out that everyone’s spreading rumors about it.”

“Oh, that’s not good.” Mike said uneasily. Bev nodded, trying not to think about what  _ else _ had happened. What Richie had told her. 

The Losers went to Bill’s house after that, worrying about Richie and their unstable powers. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Richie pedaled all the way to the Quarry and dropped his bike, stumbling to a rock and crumpling next to it. 

This had been a terrible day.

In sixth, Patrick had proposed the ‘I leave your friends alone you let me fuck you’ plan. Richie had accidentally wrecked the entire fucking bathroom- he’d gone to the bathroom to escape Patrick and Patrick had followed him. 

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, Richie had discovered that one aspect of his powers allowed him to knock people out without so much as touching them. Patrick would awaken, confused, in a wrecked bathroom. 

_ He’s gonna try again, he’s gonna try again, oh God _

(let’s make a deal)

_ I don’t wanna i don’t wanna i don’t wanna _

(c’mon pet let’s play nice)

_ no no no no no no no no no no no _

(i won’t bite)

_ no no no no no no no no no no _

(oh that’s a lie i will bite)

_ no no no no no no no no no _

(but you don’t bite me pet or i’ll hurt you)

_ no no no no no no no no _

(on your fucking knees pet)

_ no no no no no no no _

(i’m in charge you’ve got no leverage)

_ no no no no no no _

(you better keep your mouth shut pet or you won’t like the consequences)

_ no no no no no _

(i can’t breathe please please i can’t breathe i can’t BREATHE)

_ no no no no _

(it hurts it hurts please it hurts no stop)

_ no no no _

(what’s wrong pet)

_ no no _

(you know you like this)

**_NO_ **

“Richie? Richie!” Stan crashed down to the spot where Richie was huddled, shaking and sobbing, fingers digging into his hair, body trembling violently. 

Stan dropped to the ground next to him, wrapped his arms around Richie. The other boy stiffened, then collapsed against Stan, crying, moving his hands from his hair to Stan’s shoulders. 

In Richie’s current state Stan honestly looked like an angel to him. Here to save him. From what? His own mind? His past? He was choking on it. 

Words spilled out of his mouth and he found himself telling Stan everything about it. Everything. 

By the time he finished he lay sobbing wrapped in Stan’s arms, expecting Stan to push him away in disgust. Get up and leave. Call him the same things Patrick had. 

Instead, Stan held him a little tighter, shaking. Pressed a kiss against the top of Richie’s head. 

“Oh my God.” Stan breathed out, holding Richie tight. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. He didn’t know how to deal with this new knowledge except to hold Richie tight, try to communicate somehow that he was never letting Richie go. 

“I love you.” he whispered against Richie’s hair. Richie stiffened in his arms. Looked up at Stan, face tear-streaked. 

“Do you mean that?” he asked. 

Stan nodded. “I mean that.” he promised. 

Richie slumped against him again, sobbing. Stan heard him whisper “I love you” and buried his face in Richie’s hair. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, Richie cries a lot… um. I mean, he kinda has a right to, honestly.  
> Also, jeez was that little internal monologue of his hard to write. Patrick Hockstetter in my story here is such a sick, twisted character and it’s hard to really get his motivation across without dipping into his perspective, which I do not want to do.  
> Basically, he likes how Richie’s very skinny and small, and he thinks Richie kinda looks like a porcelain doll. Fragile, easy to break. He’s a sadist. As for Richie, he’s very vulnerable to manipulation and Patrick is an expert at manipulating.  
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I’m not really feeling too good and shouldn't have gone to school today, but hey. I wrote this!  
> Also, Stozier! Yay! They are now technically together so we’ve taken another step toward OT7!


	12. ‘cause i have spent too many nights on dirty bathroom floors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben manifests his powers after an attack from It. The next day, Richie doesn’t make it to class and the Losers freak out. Then their parents freak out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy! Chapter title from 100 Letters by Halsey.

Early morning. Ben was at the school early, locking his bike into place. Leaves crackled. He turned and froze. 

The mummy, teeth gnashing. Dry and withered. It charged. 

Somewhat instinctively, Ben lifted his hands. 

His hands were buzzing and he felt filled with calm certainty. 

He was surrounded by a force field. 

_ what _

It crashed full force into the protective bubble and bounced off. Ben laughed, surprised. And pleased. 

It snarled at him, angry, hateful, bitter. 

“I’ll kill you all! I’ll rip you apart!” It screamed. “I’ll pull off Bill’s head and rip off Eddie’s arm and shatter Stanley’s mind and rip out Richie’s heart and pull off Beverly’s legs and burn Mike alive and you’ll die too! I’ll kill you all! I’ll kill you all!” 

Ben flinched, but kept his hands up, somehow knowing that if he lowered his arms it would all be over for him. 

It retreated, burned and shrieking with rage. 

Ben waited for It to disappear before lowering his hands. 

He was shaking as the force field vanished. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_ Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit _

Richie twisted his wrists ineffectively in the cuffs. 

_ Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit _

“What the hell?” he demanded, staring at the people surrounding him. Dr. Handor was the only one he recognized. The rest wore suits and looked at him like he was some particularly interesting specimen. 

“Please, stay calm.” a white-haired man told him. 

“What the fuck? What the fuck is happening? Who the fuck are you?”

“There’s no need for that kind of language, Richard.” the man said. “I am Dr. Martin Brenner. Dr. Handor, here, wrote to me about an interesting development in the field of psychic powers. Like your particular skills.” 

Richie’s heart was pounding. “What?”   
“I have met several others with your abilities, but I must say finding someone who has manifested psychokinesis this late in life is astounding, particularly after being put on PsyPress.” 

Richie pressed his back against the wall behind him, pale and scared. 

“What?”

“Psychokinesis, the combined skills of telekinesis and biokinesis.” 

“How-” 

“How do we know what you can do? We examined several sites of various situations. The boys bathroom, for example. Quite violent.” 

Richie’s breathing sped up. 

“Now. We will need to locate anyone else.” Brenner turned to Dr. Handor. “For example, the boy with pyrokinesis. Very rare, very interesting. Particularly since he was taking PsyPress at the time.” 

_ Eddie. _

“Leave him alone!” Richie cried. One of the guys in suits backhanded him and his head thudded into the wall. He saw stars. 

Brenner ignored this. “And you mentioned a man who died from electrical malfunctions. That seems very unlikely- I’d like to investigate the daughter.”

_ Bev. _

“And anyone you’ve placed on PsyPress. I’d like to gather more subjects- after Eleven escaped five years ago, we haven’t had anyone except Five.” 

Richie started shaking, hands buzzing. He had to do something. 

The people in the room were all facing away. The cuffs were special- most psychic people wouldn’t be able to break them. They had no concerns. 

The lock clicked on the cuffs. Richie was buzzing with energy, he felt something. A presence. Something… like the feeling he’d gotten when they’d time traveled. 

_ ‘Go.’ _ a voice whispered in his mind. 

Richie got up, letting the cuffs drop to the ground, focusing. He threw his hands out as the people turned to face him, and they were flung across the room, slamming into the walls. He ran for the door, the knob turning before he reached it, the door opening by itself. 

He ran outside and froze. He had no idea where the fuck he was. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, the other Losers had realized that Richie was missing and were freaking out, skipping class and looking around Derry. 

A bunch of missing posters lined a wall. Peter Hale. Alexis Merritt. Henry Bowers. 

Wait. 

Richie Tozier. Dated yesterday. Blood staining the edges of the poster. 

Oh God. 

“We have to find him.” Stan’s voice wobbled a little bit as he said it. 

“Y-y-yeah. We will.” Bill’s voice was firm. 

Bev reached out and pulled the poster off of the wall. Studied it. 

“Does he really weigh ninety pounds? That’s really… light.” 

“His parents don’t feed him.” Stan said shortly. 

Bev winced. “Right.” She smoothed the poster out. “How do we find him?” 

Bill straightened, looking in another direction. Then he started walking. 

“Bill!” Ben called. 

“Where are you going?” Eddie cried. 

“I can fuh-fuh-f-feel him!” Bill replied. 

They all stared at him, confused and hopeful, before following him. The six of them raced through Derry to a building outside of town. 

Richie was standing outside the building, door open behind him, wrists rubbed raw, bruised face, and confused expression. 

“Richie!” Eddie shrieked. Richie turned, startled, and looked at them. His eyes lit up. 

“Guys!” 

There was a banging noise inside the building and Richie flinched and hastily moved away from the open doorway. 

“What happened?” Stan grabbed Richie’s hands, frowning at the raw red marks ringing the other boy’s wrists. 

“I have no idea.” Richie replied, cheeks faintly tinged pink. “I woke up with my wrists cuffed and a bunch of guys in suits staring at me.” He paused. “Dr. Handor was there.” 

“What?” Eddie demanded. “Why was he there?” 

“Dunno.” Richie sucked in a breath when Stan gently prodded his wrist. 

“You’re already hurt, why…” Stan trailed off, annoyed. Richie blinked a few times. 

Another loud bang sounded. They all went tense as several people with guns burst out of the building. 

Ben threw up his hands, creating a force field around them, ignoring the others’ cries of shock. 

Stan pulled Richie behind him. Bev stared at the building, concentrating. Bill froze, eyes wide. Eddie kicked at the grass below the force field, setting it on fire. Accidentally. 

Mike lifted his hands and the ground rumbled. The agents froze, now nervous. Staring at the ground and the fire. And the force field. 

Dr. Brenner burst out of the building, stared at them, gripping his cane tightly. 

“Ben, wuh-with the force field, we c-c-c-can’t do as m-much.” Bill told Ben, suddenly calm. 

Ben blinked at him. “Want me to take it down?”

“B-be ready to put i-i-it back up.” 

“Okay.” 

Ben lowered the force field and Bev lifted both hands, somehow  _ knowing _ what Bill wanted them to do. The power lines above the agents burst, sending sparks down on them. Eddie seized on the sparks, turning them into flames. 

Dr. Brenner ran for his car. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back at school, everyone had noticed that the Losers weren’t there. Georgie seemed quite alarmed- according to him, Bill had come to school with him. 

Calls to their parents followed. 

According to Mrs. Denbrough, Bill had indeed gone to school and she had no idea where he had gone. 

Sonia Kaspbrak started screaming, demanding that the police be contacted  _ immediately _ . 

Molly Marsh was extremely worried, saying firmly that Bev had gone to school.

Arlene Hanscom was also extremely worried- Ben had apparently gone to school early. 

According to Maggie Tozier (drunk), Richie had not been home in several days. Wentworth got on the phone and angrily told the school that he would come. 

According to Andrea Uris, she’d packed Stan off to school that morning, like normal. 

All of them turned up at the school and went into the principal’s office, worried or angry. 

“Did they even get to the school?” Molly demanded. 

“Ah, yes, Benjamin, Beverly, William, Edward, and Stanley did arrive for first period, but they all left partway through the class. Richard never showed up.” the principal told them. 

“Of course.” Wentworth grumbled, sounding extremely unhappy. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Shit.” Richie peered through the door of the principal’s office as they passed. “We can’t just sneak in. Our parents…”

“ _ Shit _ .” Stan whispered. 

Bill bit his lip. 

“Time to face the fucking music I guess.” Richie looked pale. “Or I could change my name and run away.” 

Bev walked toward the door and walked in, chin up, pale-faced. The others shuffled in after her. 

The principal said, “Ah, there you are.”

All the parents whipped around, and Andrea leaped to her feet to run over and hug Stan. 

Wentworth also got up, though his expression was full of barely-repressed fury. Sonia hurtled across the room to hug Eddie and shriek and blubber. 

“YOU ARE NEVER SEEING THESE ‘FRIENDS’ AGAIN!” she shrieked and Eddie tensed, skin heating up again. 

Sharon got up, asking questions about ‘why’. Molly gave Bev an extremely concerned look. Arlene was already scolding Ben over disappearing like that. 

Wentworth approached Richie. “We are going to have a long conversation about this when we get home.” he said angrily. Richie looked at the others, wide-eyed, as his father grabbed his arm and marched him out of the room. 

The others watched him leave, terrified. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is shit but I don’t have time and hey! Christmas break starts on Saturday, so I can’t write. Hope you enjoyed this and sorry for leaving Richie in suspense like this. And all of them, really.


	13. you belong to me[...] there's nowhere to run so let's just give it over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beverly has a conversation with her aunt. Eddie, Bill, Stan, and Ben are grounded. Richie turns up at the farm. Patrick gets a new knife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaa  
> sweet validation   
> Chapter title from Snow White Queen by Evanescence. (That's the song which, along with Tag, You're It, I draw from the most for Patrick and Richie.)

Bev glanced at her aunt nervously. She could try to explain about what happened, and about PsyPress and maybe superpowers.

Orrrrrr… she could say nothing and take her punishment like a mature woman. 

_ Haha, Beverly, you're a child. A fucking child. You're not a woman. You're not mature. You're a little girl who thinks she's on top of the fucking world.  _

Molly's hands were tight on the steering wheel. She stared at the passing cars, mind humming. A thought occurred to her-  _ play pretend _ . 

What the actual fuck did that mean? This happened sometimes- words or phrases would pop into her head, confusing her. Like just now. 

_ Play pretend. They're playing pretend, like they're still innocent children. No, no, no innocence allowed here.  _

Molly watched the light turn green and pressed the gas pedal. 

(growing up fast arentcha molly then again with a brother like al)

_ Fuck off,  _ she thought angrily, gripping the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white. 

Bev stared out the window, blankly, numbly. 

(float down here we all float down here yes we do) 

She watched the buildings blur past. 

(don't scream bevvie the neighbors will hear)

_ Why won't you just leave us alone, whoever the fuck you are? Leave us alone, I said LEAVE US ALONE _

That old man with his cane and his  _ test subjects  _ and  _ plans  _ and whatever the hell else. 

_ Lightning bursting in her veins, flickering over her skin, sparking in her eyes.  _

_ I'm not human, not anymore at least.  _

The car pulled into the apartment parking lot, into the Marshes’ space. 

Bev got out and went up the stairs to the apartment, with Molly close behind. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, all the others (except for Richie and Mike) had been grounded. 

Sonia wouldn't stop screaming about Eddie's  _ terrible friends _ and their  _ awful influence _ and  _ that Marsh slut  _ and  _ that Tozier criminal  _ and  _ that Jew boy _ and  _ the Denbrough boy  _ and the  _ black boy _ and how they were going to lead Eddie  _ straight to Hell _ . 

Strangely enough, she had nothing to say about Ben. 

Donald and Andrea expressed deep disappointment in Stan, leaving him very unhappy. 

At least they didn't scream about bad influences. 

Zachary and Sharon were bewildered by Bill's behavior. It was like they'd gotten an entirely different son after that flu.

Arlene cried, which made Ben feel worse than if she had yelled. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Why the hell did you skip school?” 

Bev uncomfortably avoided meeting her aunt's eyes.  _ I could just blurt it out- _

“Richie was missing.” 

Molly raised an eyebrow. “Missing?”

“He didn't come to school. We were worried, so we went looking for him.”

Molly exhaled slowly. “You could have told the police.”

Bev stared stubbornly at the table. Molly sighed again. 

“You could have told  _ me. _ ” 

Bev blinked, looking up at her aunt with surprise. 

“I know you haven't been able to really rely on adults before, but I promise you that you can rely on me. I'll listen. I'm  _ here _ .” Molly said earnestly. 

Bev blinked again, frowned a little, and… let herself believe. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike didn't have any trouble with his grandfather. He didn't go to school. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Richie had no idea what to do. His head was throbbing. Blood ran down his face. His glasses were broken. His left wrist was pretty much useless. 

The others, except Mike, were probably grounded. 

_ Can't go to Stan's or Bill's. Where?  _

Oh, duh. 

_ Mike _ . 

He made his way toward the farm. Slowly, painfully. Carefully. 

Everything hurt. 

(did i raise a crybaby fag truant) 

Everything hurt. 

(you make me sick richard)

Everything hurt. 

(you fucking sissy stop that crying are you a fucking girl)

Everything hurt. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike, looking out the window, was not entirely sure at first what he was seeing. 

_ Is that Richie? Shit, it is.  _

He practically ran outside to his friend. Richie was badly injured and Mike thought to himself,  _ why does he keep getting hurt?  _

“Richie!” 

Richie briefly pondered how often people called his name like that. Like  _ oh my god richie oh my jesus motherfucking christ _

Mike's hands closed on Richie's shoulders, jolting him back to reality. “Are you okay? Shit, that looks bad…”

“Gee, thanks, I had no idea.” Richie snarked immediately and instinctively (why did he always do this it made everything worse).

Mike winced and apologized. “Come inside, I'll… fix you up.”

Richie trailed after Mike, cooing quietly about how Mike was  _ oh so seductive  _ and  _ I thought you were supposed to take me on a date first _ . 

“Beep beep Richie.” Mike retorted, and Richie let out a delighted laugh and then winced, ribs throbbing. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was a knife on Patrick's windowsill. He stared at it, confused. 

Why was there a knife? Where had it come from? 

He picked it up. Pushed the button. The blade shot out, deadly sharp and gleaming wickedly. Patrick pulled out his own knife and compared the two. The new one was much sharper and more dangerous looking. 

_ Why did I get a knife?  _

He pondered this for some time. Quick thinking was not his specialty, but he eventually came to the conclusion that he had been given the knife because of Richie Tozier. 

After all, he knew, just knew, that Tozier had  _ done something  _ to him. Knocked him out and wrecked the bathroom. Those agent people, the government people, had come to the house and asked him about it.

He'd been too clever for  _ them,  _ though. They couldn't have his future pet. Nosiree. Richie Tozier was  _ his _ , not theirs.

Patrick could  _ make _ Richie do as he said with this knife, he bet. Threaten him really well. Maybe threaten to cut off the Jewboy's balls. Yeah. That'd be good. Good. He'd heard them. Not everything they'd said but he'd heard that Jewboy say he  _ loved _ Richie. Hah. How long would that last once Patrick got what he wanted? He bet it wouldn't last at all. 

He could even probably get Richie to isolate himself. Scare off all his loser  _ friends _ . Then he could make Richie believe that  _ Patrick  _ was his only friend. Like Patrick was the only one who gave a shit. Maybe he could make Richie really love  _ him  _ instead. 

Patrick absently tossed side his old knife and studied the new one, mouth watering as he thought of all kinds of things. 

He wasn't thinking about being thrown against the wall, nor did he even consider the notion that Richie might have told Stan about Patrick's little proposition in the bathroom. 

Of course he didn't. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooh was that last bit stressful.  
> Hope you enjoyed!


	14. swallowed up in the sound of my screaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next afternoon, Eddie is dragged to Dr. Handor’s office. Georgie demands an explanation from Bill. Patrick goes to Richie’s house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’M BACK! I have two WIP right now. This is still my main priority but I got stuck a few times writing this so it’s short and maybe kinda choppy.   
> Chapter Title from Imaginary by Evanescence.

“I’m taking you to Dr. Handor.” 

Eddie jerked his head in Sonia’s direction, feeling tension coiling in his muscles. “Why? I’m not sick!” 

“I have questions for him and you need a checkup. Who knows what  _ diseases _ that Tozier brat and that Marsh sl-  _ girl _ have.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed. His mother could cut herself off all she wanted, he knew what word she’d been about to say.  _ Don’t talk about them that way _ , he wanted to say. But he held his tongue. He could still remember how her eyes had narrowed and how badly she’d scared him when she’d been trying to make him take his medicine. 

In the car. Driving. Eddie stared out the window, nerves jangling. 

Sonia’s eyes were narrowed as she thought about Eddie’s  _ friends _ , and how they were really just  _ terrible influences _ who were going to get her Eddie-bear  _ killed _ and  _ maimed _ and oh the horrible things she could think of. 

Just  _ what _ was Beverly Marsh telling him? Filling his head with her dirty thoughts and things. Or what about the Tozier boy? She’d talked to a nice gentleman who’d told her not to let her boy hang around Richard. He’d said that he’d  _ seen _ Richard, doing things.  _ Homosexual _ things. With the Hockstetter boy, which was a shame. He’d always seemed so nice, but she supposed there had to be some fakers out there. 

She pulled into the parking spot and got out. Eddie seemed reluctant to leave the car, but he did get out, looking oddly reluctant. Maybe those  _ friends _ of his had been filling his head with stories about the doctor. 

“Come on, Eddie-bear.” 

He followed her in. The secretary, Miss Baum, took one look at them and visibly died inside, before plastering on a smile. 

_ Oh, lovely, Sonia Kaspbrak. _ “Mrs. Kaspbrak! I hope everything’s alright?” 

“Eddie needs a check-up, that’s all- he skipped school yesterday and I’m very worried. I also have some questions to ask Dr. Handor about Eddie’s medication.” 

“Oh, of course.” Miss Baum smiled. “I’ll just let him know you’re here.” 

She rose to her feet and walked down the hallway, slowing somewhat. Dr. Handor still had his guest in with him, the doctor from Indiana. She raised her fist to knock, hesitated, and let it fall. 

“Enter!” Dr. Handor called. “Ah, Miss Baum, what is it?” 

“Mrs. Kaspbrak, here with her son, Doctor.” 

Dr. Handor sighed. “Show them into the exam room, Miss Baum. I’ll be there in a moment. Oh, yes, let them know I have a guest doctor here who will be sitting in on the appointment.” 

“Yes, Doctor.” Miss Baum left immediately. 

“A frequent visitor, Mrs. Kaspbrak.” Dr. Handor murmured apologetically. “But her son is one of the children I placed on PsyPress, as I said already.” 

“Ah, yes. I would like to see his records. I think I will get my alpha-wave reader.” 

“Alright.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eddie sat on the bed in the exam room, waiting. Tense. Nervous. 

“Now don’t worry, Eddie-bear. You’ve had plenty of check ups before.” Sonia soothed. Eddie ignored her. 

The door opened and Dr. Handor entered, along with… the man who had kidnapped Richie. 

_ What the fuck? _

“Ah, Mrs. Kaspbrak, Eddie.” Dr. Handor smiled. “I heard you had some questions, Mrs. Kaspbrak?” 

“Yes, about PsyPress.” 

The door closed. Eddie practically felt the boom. 

“Well, this is Dr. Brenner, who created PsyPress and is an expert on White Syndrome.” 

“White Syndrome?” Sonia repeated. 

“That is the name given to the particular genetic condition that PsyPress treats.” Dr. Brenner said smoothly. 

Eddie’s heart was pounding. 

“I have treated a number of patients with the syndrome before.” 

“Well, what does it do?” Sonia demanded. 

Dr. Brenner smiled grimly. “The exact form varies. But the thing that everyone has in common is strange abilities.” 

Eddie felt hot, skin tingling, body trembling. 

“Like what?!” Sonia demanded. 

“Some forms of White Syndrome involve telekinetic abilities, others geokinesis. Many, many abilities can result. But I believe your son’s particular manifestation is pyrokinesis. Fire.”

Sonia looked stunned. Eddie felt unstable. Out of control. 

“Well, what do we do?” Sonia recovered enough to demand. 

Dr. Brenner opened his mouth to speak and Eddie screamed. 

The world washed white with flames.  

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Billy can I talk to you?” Georgie poked his head into his big brother’s room. Bill was drawing something, but he jumped, slammed his sketchbook shut, and threw it under the bed. 

“Y-yeah.” 

Georgie entered the room and shut the door. Then he walked over to the bed and climbed on. 

“Why’d you skip school, Billy? I heard Mommy and Daddy yelling.” 

Bill bit his lip. “Richie was m-muh-missing.” 

Georgie’s eyes widened. “Like all those other kids?” 

“Y-yeah, except my friends and I f-f-found him.” 

“So he’s not missing anymore? I heard Daddy saying they were probably dead.” 

Bill frowned and ruffled Georgie’s hair. “No, he’s n-not missing. And d-d-don’t listen to Dad about th-that. Just b-be c-c-careful.” 

Georgie nodded, bright-eyed. “Okay, Billy!” 

He left. Bill reached under his bed and pulled his sketchbook out, looking at the drawing he’d been working on. 

_ Stupid, stupid stupid stupid _ . He shut the sketchbook again.  _ You’re so stupid _ . 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Tozier house was not in a particularly good part of town. Patrick was careful to keep the knife out as he walked, not sure exactly how Richie managed to walk around with all the paranoid looks people were shooting him. 

Maybe it was because Patrick didn’t live around here. 

He wandered over into the backyard and noticed the back door unlocked. He then checked inside, practically salivating, only to discover, to his deep disappointment, that no one was home. 

He snatched a piece of paper out of one of Richie’s notebooks and started writing, mouth curling into a cruel smirk. 

Then, he left. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike had biked back to Richie’s house, with Richie, to get some stuff, like clothes and school stuff. 

Richie went to unlock the door and froze. “It’s open.” 

Mike tensed. “That doesn’t seem good.”

Richie bit his lip. “Mom leaves it unlocked a lot. It’s probably nothing.” He went in, and Mike followed. There wasn’t anyone home. They went up to Richie’s room and Richie started packing stuff. 

Then he saw the note. He recognized the writing.  _ Oh God, oh fuck, oh nonono _

He picked it up, feeling numb. Read it. 

_ I know where you live. I saw you at the quarry with that Jew boy. I can get into your house. I stole the spare key. You better do what I tell you or I’ll skip leaving your friends alone. You better.  _

_ Patrick _

Richie’s hands were shaking as he stared blankly at the note. 

“Richie?” Mike sounded worried. He reached for the note but Richie folded it jerkily and stuffed it in his backpack. 

“It’s nothing.” he snapped, neck prickling. 

_ oh god oh god oh fuck fuck fuck no no nononono _

Mike didn’t look convinced. 

_ I need to talk to Stan oh fuck I need _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the “nice gentleman” Sonia talked to was Robert Gray. Hope you enjoyed! Next chapter, Richie sneaks over to Stan’s house and Eddie ends up in the hospital, again, this time with his mom and both Dr. Handor and Dr. Brenner. And Mike frets a lot.


	15. don’t look now but the little girl’s got a grenade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike sits in his room and worries. Bev comes over. Eddie wakes up in the hospital. Richie goes to Stan’s house with the note. Richie and Stan make a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter already! I’m on a fucking roll. Chapter title from Imperfection by Evanescence.

Mike was worried. Whatever had been in that note that Richie had found in his room, it was bad. He could tell from the way Richie had gone pale and started shaking, trembling with obvious fear. And then he’d pretended that it was nothing and he was fine and had gone and gotten his bike and said he’d sleep over at Stan’s house tonight and probably shift through different houses for a little while. 

Hopefully Stan would be able to figure out what was wrong. Mike hadn’t liked the look in Richie’s eyes at  _ all _ . 

He was startled by Bev’s arrival, and quickly raced down to let her in. 

“Hey, Bev, what’s wrong?”

Her face was a little flushed. “Nothing. I didn’t get grounded and I figured you’d be the only other one not grounded. Since we didn’t get any chances to talk at school. Richie looked pretty beat up.” 

“Yeah… he came here last night. I think he’s staying at Stan’s tonight. I’m worried about him- there was a note in his room and he got really pale when he read it. He seemed pretty freaked.” 

Bev frowned. “Huh, that’s… weird, do you think it was his dad?”

“I don’t know, would his dad really leave him a note?” 

“Yeah…” Bev was still frowning. She thought of a moment in the last timeline, around this time. 

_ (Flashback) _

_ Bev was hiding in an empty classroom, trying to keep her distance- Gretta had been harassing her worse than ever this year.  _

_ She had been in the classroom for about an hour when she heard voices outside the room. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it sounded intense. A moment later the door opened quietly and someone entered the classroom.  _

_ She, tucked into the back seated on a desk, tensed. The kid who’d come in turned around and she was startled to see that, a) he was crying, and b) it was Trashmouth Tozier. The kid who was generally unbothered by  _ anything _.  _

_ Why was he crying?  _

_ He froze on seeing her and wiped at his face. “Sorry. I’ll go-” he grabbed the door handle.  _

_ “No, it’s okay.” she said quickly. “What’s wrong, why are you crying?”  _

_ “Nothing.” he mumbled, rubbing his sleeve across his face. She thought she saw a shadow on his neck, a familiar kind of bruise, but she dismissed it- no way. Probably just a shadow, or maybe his hair- it  _ was _ kind of long.  _

_ They stayed in the classroom until he stopped crying, and then he left. Neither of them exchanged another word until June of the next year, when she joined the Losers Club.  _

_ She had never brought it up to him, figuring later on when she thought back that he’d been crying about Georgie, maybe, or his parents.  _

_ (End Flashback) _

“I- around this time last timeline, I was hiding in a classroom, from Gretta, you know.” 

Mike blinked at her, nodding a little bit. 

“And he came in, crying. I think he’d been arguing with someone right outside. I asked why he was crying and he said it was nothing, and I figured later, once we were friends, that it was about his parents or maybe Georgie, but…” she shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. Maybe it was something else.” 

Mike frowned. “Yeah… so this is a problem that he’s maybe trying to fix this time around? That he didn’t tell anybody?” 

Bev nodded slowly. “I think so.” 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eddie slowly swam back to consciousness in a hospital room.  _ Again _ . 

He stared at the ceiling, trying to remember what the actual  _ fuck _ had happened. 

Oh yeah. He’d started another fire. 

_ mom _

Was his mom okay? 

Oh, God, had he killed her? He felt fine, so clearly the fire hadn’t affected him aside from blacking out-

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” A nurse had bustled into the room, frowning. 

“My mom!” he rasped instantly, trying to sit up. 

“Ah-ah, don’t try to sit.” she scolded. “Your mother’s alive. She’s badly burned, but she’ll be fine. You, on the other hand, aren’t burned at all.” 

The last bit was said with wondering confusion. Eddie swallowed hard. The nurse just gave him a glass of water, helping him drink it. Then, she left, leaving him alone with his thoughts. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Andrea and Donald Uris were genuinely good people. Donald may have been a strict father, but this was in large portion due to his and Andrea’s history- she had miscarried twice in New York City before they’d moved to Derry and finally had a son, and hence they were rather overprotective. 

Stan had no idea that he was technically the third child. They weren’t planning on telling him anytime soon. 

They’d found themselves, naturally, quite fond of shy, polite Bill Denbrough and tiny sickly Eddie Kaspbrak. Perhaps surprisingly, unlike most, they were also quite fond of Richie Tozier. He was… very charming, in his own way, and Andrea had been a counselor who worked with troubled kids in New York, before the first miscarriage. She recognized signs of abuse, but had tried reporting it three times and had gotten nowhere. (Ha,  _ Derry _ .)

So when Richie turned up with his backpack stuffed with clothes and things, a bruise on his face, looking nervous, they let him in, ignoring the fact that they’d grounded Stan. 

Richie went straight up to Stan’s room, not even bothering knocking. Stan looked up, startled and confused, as Richie dropped his backpack on the floor and toed off his shoes. Richie then crossed to Stan’s bed and dropped onto it, wincing. 

“I went to my house with Mike to get my stuff.” 

Stan nodded, frowning. “What happened?” 

Richie bit his lip. “I found this.” He held out a folded note. Stan took it, curious. Opened it. Read it. He tensed, face going white, and looked up at Richie. 

Richie started to cry. “I don’t know what to  _ do _ , Stan!” 

Stan reached out, pulling Richie close, shaking. 

“It might- we might- we might need to… deal with him.” Stan whispered. “ _ Permanently _ .” 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day, Patrick practically couldn’t stop salivating. He looked eagerly forward to sixth period. 

Richie wasn’t so excited. Stan kept giving him reassuring looks. They’d made a plan last night, and had actually practiced a little with their newfound powers, but Richie’s heart was pounding by the time English rolled around. Oh, and the fact that Eddie wasn’t there was just fuel for more stress. 

He and Patrick went to the library as usual, and he went straight for the bathroom. 

As planned, Stan was waiting in one of the stalls, hiding. He gave Richie a reassuring glance before hiding again, and Richie waited. 

He didn’t have to wait long. 

Patrick entered with an eager grin on his face, looking at Richie. “So, made a decision then, Pet?” 

Richie flinched, heart racing. Closed his eyes. The door locked, making a loud clacking sound. Patrick turned, confused, and Stan opened his stall door, eyes narrowed. 

He walked out and gently steered Richie behind him. Locked eyes with Hockstetter. He was choking on his anger. 

Cold. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eddie learned more about the fire. For example, the fact that Dr. Brenner had died. 

What a  _ fucking _ tragedy, huh. A real  _ fucking _ tragedy. 

Dr. Handor would survive, if only just. Apparently, his assistant slash secretary slash receptionist was already looking for a new job. 

Fortunately, Dr. Handor wasn’t the only pediatrician in town, and Dr. Eva Morgen was more than willing to take up the slack. She, in fact, was the doctor who came in to run some tests. She was a lot younger than Eddie had expected, honestly- Dr. Handor was going gray. 

Dr. Morgen had been a doctor for six years. She was quick and efficient, but good at calming scared children, which made her a favorite among those who took their kids to her. The Urises were among those people, having switched as soon as a different pediatrician was available. 

They hadn’t liked Dr. Handor much. Andrea felt that he was far too…  _ rough _ for a pediatrician, and when he tried to prescribe some drug they’d never heard of for some ‘genetic syndrome’ they’d never heard of… well, they’d done their research. 

For those who are unaware, White Syndrome was originally discovered some time ago, in the late 1960s. It was simply referred to as ‘being psychic’ until the late 1970s, when it was given the name White Syndrome, to dress it up and sound official. The name White Syndrome was taken from arguably the most famous psychic person in America, Carrie White. 

That much, where the name came from, could be found. And, well, with a name like PsyPress, the pill sounded menacing. 

Most people who’d switched pediatricians were quite happy with Dr. Morgen. Not a one of them would miss Dr. Handor, frankly, and anyone who would need to switch now would quickly understand how much better off they were now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we conclude both the Patrick Hockstetter arc and the Dr. Brenner arc. Dr. Morgen is an OC. yes, I went off on a tangent at the end with the whole ‘White Syndrome’ thing. No, I’m not sorry. Yes, Carrie White is canon for this story. No, Richie has not made any connection between the similar abilities.   
> Also, I’m already writing the next chapter so there may be near-daily updates for a while.


	16. i won’t take anyone down if i crawl tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick’s body is discovered. Eddie gets out of the hospital and goes to stay with Bill. An eight-year-old is sent away and his parents arrested for abuse. Dr. Morgen comes to the school the next day for examinations. Richie has another panic attack. Five Losers are extremely suspicious of Patrick’s death. And there’s something mysterious about Dr. Morgen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, some of the scenes below (Bill’s nightmare) were gross to write.   
> Chapter Title from Devil in Me by Halsey.

The teacher who found Patrick’s body had a very bad reaction and had to be taken to the hospital. 

The police arrived by the beginning of seventh and sent everyone home. Richie went home with Stan. Bill went home to discover that Eddie was going to be staying with him until his mother was out of the hospital. 

“I had to go to an appointment and that doctor guy who kidnapped Richie was there.” Eddie explained. 

“What?” Bill demanded. 

“Yeah. He talked a bunch about White Syndrome or some shit. And apparently invented PsyPress.” Eddie frowned. “And I got really tense and all overheated and then I… I dunno, I started another fire.” 

Bill reached out and pulled Eddie into a hug. Eddie started sniffling. 

“Mom’s gonna be okay but she’s really badly burned. Dr. Handor’s gonna live but they don’t know. And the other guy’s dead-” he broke off and started sobbing. Bill held him tight. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stan and Richie were in almost the same position, with Stan holding a sobbing Richie close. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” Stan whispered, carding his fingers through Richie’s hair. Richie clung to him. 

_ Wow, his hair is really tangled _ . Stan started gently untangling the other boy’s curls. Richie didn’t seem to notice, just pressed closer. 

Stan had a bad feeling that if, physically, they had hit puberty, this might be difficult.  _ Oh well _ . He just kept holding his- best friend? Boyfriend? 

Richie finally stopped crying, but neither of them were all that inclined to move. 

They fell asleep in Stan’s bed, snuggled together. 

(Andrea came upstairs an hour later and saw them. She was worried about how obviously Richie had been crying, but also very occupied by how cute they were. She may or may not have taken a picture and called Donald up to see.) 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eva sighed and raked her fingers through her hair. “You’re saying I now am being asked to conduct abuse checks on every kid in Derry?” 

Officer Bowers scowled. “Just the ones at school. Ask ‘em your questions or whatever it is.” 

She gave him a blank stare. “An abuse check is not a  _ survey _ , Officer. I will need to conduct an actual examination if I have any suspicions. And I’ve only recently passed the tests to perform abuse checks.” 

Bowers stared at her. “Well, you can do it, right?” 

“Yes.” Eva rose to her feet. “I can do it. It will take a few days to get through everyone. I’ll start with the younger kids- they often haven’t learned masks as well.” 

Bowers stared at her again. 

“You may go.” she snapped. “I  _ am _ the only pediatrician in Derry and I’m very busy.”

Bowers left. Eva dropped into her chair again. 

_ God, it gets harder every year. That man disgusts me. _ She opened up a file cabinet and pulled out a form. 

“Helena?” 

Her receptionist entered. “Yes?” 

“I have to conduct abuse checks on every single kid in Derry. Copy this form three hundred and fifty times, please? That’s a little bit over the number of kids in school.” 

Helena Black stared at her. “You have to… what?”

Eva heaved a sigh. “Yes, I know, it’s ridiculous. Please just… copy it.” 

Helena nodded. “Okay, yes. On a side note, I think you need two receptionists, especially since Dr. Handor’s out now.” 

Eva sighed again. “Gimme a list of possibilities. I’ll look ‘em over later.” 

“Okay.” Helena went out. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_ Richie was trapped in that room, trapped in Neibolt, and Bill couldn’t get him out. He was gonna die. Bill could hear Richie pounding on the door and screaming. Then the screaming changed. Richie wasn’t banging on the door anymore.  _

_ “Richie!” Bill cried. Richie was still screaming and now there were pleas mixed into the screams.  _

_ No, stop, please, don’t.  _

_ Bill didn’t know what was happening and the door opened. The clown loomed in front of him, there were people behind it, and the clown smiled at him cheerfully.  _

_ “Wanna join, Billy Boy? Lots of fun for  _ almost _ everyone involved!”  _

_ (no no oh god no) _

_ The clown grabbed his throat and squeezed.  _

Bill woke up, a gasp clawing out of his throat, and looked around. Eddie was curled up next to him in the bed. The room was dark. The drawings that he’d put up on the walls were still and silent. Eddie’s breathing was steady, whistling a little bit like it always did. 

Bill’s breathing stabilized and he briefly laid a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. Solid and warm and real. He slid out of bed and picked up his sketchbook, hands shaking, and climbed back into bed with sketchbook and pencil. 

_ Just draw it out and it will go away _ , he told himself.  _ Just draw it out, draw it out _ . 

He flipped through the sketchbook and hesitated on a drawing. The one he’d been making when Georgie had come in. 

He stared at it. Traced a finger over the lines. 

Jesus, he was a fucking idiot. 

Bill turned the page and started drawing the nightmare. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Police Chief Richard Borton was not happy. Derry had become a real cesspit of crimes lately. He stared at Patrick Hockstetter’s body. Jesus, the parents were a wreck. He had a lot of pressure on him from multiple quarters to solve the crime. 

The problem was, he had no idea how. The body had two stab wounds and a broken spine. Neither stab wound aligned with any known weapon, and a broken spine? How the holy  _ hell _ was he supposed to solve that? 

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Hey, Charles. Got anything on the wounds?” 

Charles Avarino looked up from a deep concentration on a number of books and pictures of the body. “Nope. Paul and Jeffrey might have more luck’n the school, lookin’ for the weapon.” 

Borton sighed again. “Harold, Bruce, any luck on finding suspects?” 

Harold Gardener sighed, too. “Not really. All we know is, he died sometime during sixth period. Some suspicion would need to be placed on his partner for the project his class was doing, Richie Tozier. But…”

Borton was frowning. “Tozier, huh. Had to pull his mother over three days ago for driving drunk.” He paused. “You said ‘but’...?” 

Harold frowned. “Well, aside from the impossibilities of him breaking someone’s spine- I mean, you’ve seen him before, right? He’s pretty small. Aside from that, his location’s been vouched for. Multiple sources.” 

Borton nodded. “So we’ll need to look elsewhere. I suppose he  _ would _ have been safe from the physical side of things alone.” 

“Yeah.” Harold sighed. “It’s strange, though- we got an anonymous tip-off that the kid might’ve had a motive. Then we got a much more reliable source telling us his location’s vouched for.” 

Borton frowned again, then sighed and got some aspirin. Time to kill this brewing headache. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rumors had quickly circulated. Patrick Hockstetter had been found dead in the bathroom. By the next morning everyone knew his spine had been snapped and he’d been stabbed twice, and that the police had no leads. 

Bev had her suspicions. How could the police have no leads? If the stab wounds didn’t align with any known weapons. 

Ice. Stan and Richie had been acting  _ weird _ . A broken spine, the fact that Richie had been badly abused last timeline… 

Oh. 

OH.

Oh shit. 

That was why Richie had been acting so strange about that note. And he’d gone to Stan, because they were best friends. And of course, Stan, who would do anything for his friends, would have helped him. 

Well, she frankly couldn’t judge them for committing murder because she’d killed her father not once but twice. 

All she could do was offer her silent support. 

And she would. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Morgen arrived early and set up. The littlest kids, who came earlier, started filing into the classroom she was using one at a time. She checked them each and marked down a few risks- Dorsey Corcoran among them. Fortunately for him, she would just report it in time to save him from his stepfather. 

One grade at a time she marched through until she hit seventh grade at the end of sixth period. 

The first member of the Losers Club that she saw was Bill, who passed just fine- showing some hints of the neglect he suffered in the past timeline, but no physical signs. The next one was Ben, who also passed- although she did quietly advise him that losing some weight would probably be a good idea. 

Next she saw Eddie, and he did not pass through. She was incredibly alarmed- she’d asked him what medications he took and he’d gotten them all out. 

She counted through them, eyes slowly widening. Some of these were incredibly dangerous. Then she picked up the bottle of little red pills and froze, heart pounding. It took her a long moment to recover from the sight, and she quickly put them down. 

“Some of these are extremely dangerous. Many of them are also, unfortunately, fairly addictive. You’re going to need to stop taking them and you’re going to need medical help for the withdrawal.” 

Eddie stared at her, wide-eyed and pale. 

“Who prescribed them- I see.” She glared at a bottle. “Dr. Handor. Hmm. I’m going to need to talk to- your mother is in the hospital, right?” 

“Right.” Eddie whispered. 

“I’m going to need to talk to whoever is currently in charge of you.”

“The Denbroughs.” Eddie mumbled. 

“Right.” she responded, making a note of that. “You may go.”

After Eddie had left, she looked at Helena. “Either Dr. Handor is guilty of gross medical malpractice, which he has to be, or Sonia Kaspbrak is guilty of child abuse, which she likely is, or both.” 

Helena nodded. 

Dr. Morgen sighed. “Next.” 

The next Loser to enter was Bev, who quietly explained that she’d just started living with her aunt and might still have signs of abuse from her father. Dr. Morgen nodded understandingly and passed her. 

The next Loser was Richie. This… did not go very well. 

First of all, he had a panic attack. It was a good thing Dr. Morgen was trained to deal with those, or things might have gone rapidly south. 

But in addition, he refused to confirm whether or not his parents were abusive, so all she could do was flag the form and hope for the best. 

The next (and last) Loser was Stan, who was in and out (though he did tell Dr. Morgen that Richie was staying at his house and would probably be ‘couch-hopping’ for a while) in a few minutes. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stan and Richie went straight to Stan’s house after school, and the other five got together. 

“Stab wounds that don’t match any known weapons?” Ben was frowning. “That’s…” 

Bev stared absently at the wall. They had gone to Bill’s house to hide out in his bedroom and talk about it, but Stan had begged off and taken Richie with him. 

Should she tell or not? On the one hand, she wanted to respect Richie’s privacy. On the other hand, this was ridiculous. 

This was  _ all _ ridiculous. 

Mike rubbed his face. “I- the broken spine, the weird stab wounds, Stan and Richie’s behavior right now… It’s all making a picture I don’t think I like.” 

“Are y-you saying what I th-think you’re saying?” Bill asked. 

Mike looked at him. “I think it was Stan and Richie.” 

Ben swallowed. “What do we do?” At the same time, Eddie asked, “Why would they do that?”

Bev spoke up now. “I think we should, first of all, not be rude about it, but ask them about it.” 

“Just ask?” Eddie demanded, doubtful. “Would they tell the truth?”

Bev sighed. “I told you guys when I killed my father, didn’t I? Both times?” 

“She’s r-r-right.” Bill said. “We should a-a-a-ask.” 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eva sat in her desk chair, hand on the phone, staring at the number written on a piece of paper. She took a deep breath.  _ Oh, God. I need to make this call. _

She dialed the number. Waited. Someone answered. 

“Hello? My name is Eva Morgen. May I speak to Chief Hopper? Thank you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, I keep focusing on that drawing. You’ll find out eventually. No, no one’s gonna figure out that Richie and Stan killed Patrick Hockstetter except the Losers. My apologies for any inaccuracies about what doctors can and can’t do about abuse. And the legal system.   
> Also, I combed the character list for police officers and discovered that the police chief is named Richard Borton, *not* Jim Borden. Sorry.   
> (And enter more Stranger Things characters oops)  
> I may slow down updates now.


	17. low on self-esteem so you run on gasoline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Eva Morgen goes and talks to the Denbroughs about Eddie’s treatment. She also talks to Sonia. The Losers start to turn their attention to It.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this. Is shit. Maybe. Also, revelations about Dr. Morgen. And we finally get closer to actually fighting It. and Richie cries again bc I like making him cry apparently. Also, just… kinda imagine that more kids are dying in the background. Chapter title from Gasoline by Halsey.

Dr. Morgen walked up the path to the Denbrough’s house, trying to breathe deeply and evenly. 

She was welcomed in and ushered to the living room by a smiling Sharon, who nonetheless looked rather worried. Zachary was already in there, waiting, along with Eddie and, surprisingly, Bill, who was quite stubbornly seated next to Eddie with arms crossed. 

No sign of Georgie anywhere. 

“Okay.” she began. “I don’t know if you two have authority over Eddie at all?” 

Sharon sighed a little. “No, not much. Just making sure he goes to school and all. You’d have to talk to his mother for treatment options. She woke up this morning.” 

Dr. Morgen nodded thoughtfully. She took her leave after a brief discussion of possible withdrawal and as she left heard Eddie whispering to Bill, “I really thought they were all placebos…” 

She sighed sadly and got into her car, white-knuckling it to the hospital, thinking about PsyPress. 

Thinking about her childhood. 

She hadn’t let herself do that for a long time, believing passionately that repression was the best approach. 

Ha. 

Well, she was coping okay now, going to regular appointments with Dr. Roberts, putting makeup on her wrist every day… 

Keeping in contact with the others. 

She had good and bad news here, and definitely needed help. Hopper might not be able to come, but… 

Others would. She had looked over some of Dr. Handor’s files this morning, after a number of people officially transferred to her. The sheer numbers of children who had been prescribed PsyPress- forty, in Derry! Where there were maybe four hundred kids, perhaps fifty of which were not yet school-aged. That was, what, ten percent of the kids? And that couldn’t be all of them, because roughly twelve percent of psychic people were not powered as children- they unlocked their powers, and subsequently became detectable, in adulthood. 

She sighed again, head aching. She had read Eddie’s file this morning. She was  _ not _ looking forward to a conversation with Mrs. Kaspbrak about Eddie’s medications, none of which were even remotely necessary beyond the asthma medicine, which wasn’t even real medicine and thus was harmless. 

What mother would knowingly put their child in danger like this? At least she had an ace up her sleeve- telling CPS, and providing the list of medications, would get Eddie immediately removed. Now, she didn’t  _ want _ to take him away from his friends, but hopefully the threat of it would make Mrs. Kaspbrak behave. 

_ Gah _ , sometimes she wished she had a better power, like mind control or reanimating the dead. 

Instead she could interpret people. Really well. Like mind-reading, only she felt intentions and understood past transgressions. 

She felt bad for Beverly Marsh, who had clearly been through a lot with her father. It was funny- her mind was…  _ blurred _ , for lack of a better word, in places. The same with Bill Denbrough, Ben Hanscom, Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, and Stanley Uris. 

It was a real shame her powers couldn’t be used as evidence in court, or she could remove quite a few people from their homes. As it was, she had already reported Richard Macklin for child abuse- Ed Corcoran may have been good at hiding it, but she read him. And little Dorsey was very open. 

Hopefully CPS would act quickly. 

She pulled into the parking lot and then headed into the building. Approached the front desk. 

“Hello, can I have Mrs. Sonia Kaspbrak’s room number?” 

The receptionist looked up. “Certainly. It is 224. May I ask who- ah. Dr. Morgen. Go right up!” 

“Thanks.” Dr. Morgen headed off for the stairs- gave her more time to think. And think she did, right up to reaching room 224. 

She knocked on the doorframe and entered the room. “Mrs. Kaspbrak? I’m Dr. Morgen.” 

Sonia gave her a querulous look. “Are you with the hospital?” 

“No, I’m Derry’s second pediatrician, and currently the only one since Dr. Handor is… out of commision.” Dr. Morgen shut the door and crossed to the bed, taking a seat in the chair. “I’ve been given charge of every child Dr. Handor was seeing, so I’m now your son’s pediatrician- unless you choose to take him to someone in Bangor.” 

“What?” Sonia demanded “I was not consulted!” 

Dr. Morgen exhaled. “Okay. Mrs. Kaspbrak. I need you to listen carefully to me. I have plenty of evidence to get you arrested for child abuse.”

Sonia swelled up angrily. “HOW DARE YOU?”   
Dr. Morgen smiled. “You’ve gotten your son essentially addicted to highly dangerous and completely unnecessary drugs, some of which are illegal. But here’s the thing. I don’t  _ want _ to take him away from his friends and the town.  _ If _ you cooperate with the necessary treatment and let me be his primary physician,  _ then _ I won’t tell a soul about this. But  _ if _ you decide against this course, well,  _ then _ I would need to contact CPS. And I’m  _ sure  _ they would listen- I  _ am _ a well-enough-respected pediatrician. And I have the proof of it all.” 

Sonia stared at her, outraged but- she knew she was beaten. 

Dr. Morgen smiled pleasantly. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Losers Club met up later that day, and Eddie and Bill told them about their new knowledge. 

“Oh shit.” Ben shook his head. “That’s not good.” 

Eddie nervously added, “And no way is anyone convincing Mom to take me off that stuff. Or allow any treatment.” 

Stan laid a calming hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “We’ll figure something out, Eddie.” 

“We have to kill It.” Bill said abruptly.

“Whoa, talk about a non sequitur.” Richie said, raising his eyebrows. “Where’d that come from, Billiam?” 

Bill looked at Richie. “Another k-k-kid went muh-missing t-today.” 

“...Oh.” Richie looked down. 

Bev frowned. “We got a second chance. We should kill It as soon as we can.” 

Stan frowned. “We should, yeah…” He looked away, rubbing his palms together. “We should practice with our powers. Figure out what we can do with them.” 

“Yeah.” Eddie quirked an eyebrow at Stan and Richie. “Figure out what we can do.” 

Stan blinked at him, confused. Eddie rolled his eyes and looked away. 

“Well, we could meet up tomorrow at the Quarry?” Bev suggested. “To practice?” 

“Sounds good to me.” Ben replied, smiling. 

“Sure.” Mike said, shrugging. 

“E-e-Eddie and I sh-should be able t-t-to come.” Bill said, Eddie nodding beside him. 

Stan and Richie exchanged a look. “Yeah, why not.” Richie said cheerfully. 

Eventually, various Losers started leaving. Eddie followed Stan out to confront him about Patrick Hockstetter’s murder, and meanwhile Richie had found Bill’s sketchbook, open, and was staring silently at the drawing. The drawing Bill had made of his nightmare. 

Outside, Eddie grabbed Stan’s arm, making Stan jump. 

“I have a question.” Eddie said, eyes burning into Stan’s (okay, not literally, metaphorically, but it still  _ felt _ like burning). 

“About…?” Stan raised an eyebrow. 

“Did you and Richie kill Patrick Hockstetter?” Eddie demanded, gut twisting- had they? What would he do if the answer was yes? 

Stan stared at him, eyes wide, face suddenly drained of color. “Wh-what makes you think that…?” He stumbled over the words, mildly terrified. 

Eddie swallowed. Okay, that wasn’t an explicit  _ yes _ but Stan wouldn’t be so nervous if he hadn’t. 

“Broken spine, Stan. Stab wounds that don’t match any known weapons. Richie was partnered with Hockstetter in English, wasn’t he? Sixth period? Can he break bones with his powers? Did you, Stan? Did you help kill Hockstetter?” 

“Yes.” Stan whispered, eyes wide. 

Eddie bit his lip, bewildered. “Why?” 

Stan shook his head slowly. “I can’t tell you, Eddie.” 

Eddie stared at Stan. “Why  _ not _ ?” he demanded, rather shrill. 

Stan met his eyes. “It’s not  _ my _ secret, it’s Richie’s. I can’t tell you unless he’s okay with it.” 

Eddie stared at him in confusion. “What secret, Stan? What did Hockstetter ever do bad enough to deserve death?” 

Stan’s eyes hardened. “I can’t tell you, Eddie.”

Richie emerged from the house looking shaken and ran for his bike, practically hurtling off down the street. Stan pulled free from Eddie and followed, looking worried. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside, Richie stared blankly at the drawing. “Bill?” 

Bill looked up at him and froze, then grabbed the sketchbook and yanked it away. “Wh-why are you…” He trailed off, staring at the drawing Richie had seen. “Chee-” 

“Why’d you draw that, Bill? Where did you see that?” Richie was breathing fast. 

“I-it was a n-n-nuh-nuh-nightmare.” Bill stared at Richie, worried. “Whuh-why-?”

Richie shook his head, trembling, staring at the drawing still. 

A clown loomed in the center, in a doorway. Shadows. And- in the background- 

_ No no no no no no no _

Richie backed up, then fled the room, running down the stairs, outside, vaguely noticing Eddie and Stan having what looked like a very intense discussion, grabbing his bike, fleeing down the street. 

_ no no no no no no no _

He was aware of Stan pedaling after him, calling his name, seeming increasingly concerned. 

_ Oh God _

He dropped his bike in the backyard of the Uris house and collapsed next to it. Stan pedaled up a few minutes later and touched his arm. 

“Richie?” 

Richie looked up at him, wide-eyed. 

“What’s wrong?” Stan’s voice was soft. 

“Bill had a drawing- he said- he said it was of a nightmare and it-” Richie broke off, rubbing his eyes furiously. Stan put an arm around him. 

Richie swallowed hard. “It looked like-  _ that _ -” 

Stan tensed a little and pulled Richie close. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After Richie had biked off like the devil was on his tail and Stan had followed him, the other Losers had reconvened in Bill’s room, to find that Bill was staring at his sketchbook. 

“What’s wrong?” Bev asked, concerned. Bill silently held out the sketchbook at they stared at the nightmare drawing. 

“R-richie saw this a-a-and had a r-r-r-really bad response.” Bill said solemnly. 

“That’s why he biked off like that?” Mike asked. 

“Y-yeah, I guess so.” 

“I have other news.” Eddie spat out. “Stan confirmed it. But he said they did it because of a secret that Richie’s keeping. And then he wouldn’t explain!” 

Bev sighed softly- she’d been right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp. Somebody please comment ideas for the next chapter i do NOT KNOW what to write.


	18. see the devil on the doorstep now (my oh my)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Losers meet up at the quarry. Seven strangers arrive in town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I switch between El and Jane in the story. Sorry. Also, I apologize in advance for the absolute *shit* that is the fight scene towards the end of the chapter.   
> Chapter title from We Are by Ana Johnsson.

Early the next morning, the Losers began to arrive at the Quarry, semi-prepared for the day ahead. 

“Okay,” Bill started. “We’re gonna t-t-t-try to practice o-o-our p-p-powers.” 

They all paused. 

“How the fuck-” Richie started before pausing and frowning at a rock. It wobbled, then slowly, waveringly, rose into the air. Richie only managed to hold it there for a moment before it dropped, but still. The others stared at him. 

He gave them a mildly embarrassed look. 

Stan patted his arm. 

“Whoa.” Eddie whispered. 

They started trying to use their powers (on a smaller scale in Eddie’s case). 

Practice went pretty well, too, with everyone managing to do okay with their abilities. Except Bill, who still wasn’t entirely sure what his powers even were. He knew he’d managed to somehow halt the damage Richie’s powers had been doing once, and that he was able to feel the others, but he wasn’t sure exactly what that meant or what they even were. 

Everything was going well. Until. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The car was a little old, a lot worn, and rolled through Derry to the confusion of multiple people. Mike Wheeler was in the driver’s seat, with Jane Hopper in the passenger seat and Will Byers, Lucas Sinclair, Dustin Henderson, Max Mayfield, and Steve Harrington crammed in the backseat. 

Jim Hopper couldn’t come, but his daughter and her friends certainly could. 

They stopped outside Dr. Morgen’s house and got out. 

She welcomed them in, blinking at Mike because she now realized that he looked quite a bit like Richie Tozier. 

Only older by five years. 

“Thank you for coming.” she said with a relieved smile. “I’ve got at  _ least _ forty psychic kids here in Derry, and most of them have taken or are taking PsyPress.” 

Complete silence. 

Then Dustin spoke up. “How? In Hawkins, a town with a population of ten thousand kids, we’ve got around, maybe twenty? How many kids live in Derry?” 

Dr. Morgen exhaled. “About four hundred, maybe fifty not yet school aged. And not every psychic child is found by doctors. Who knows how many there actually are. I’ve been going over the other former pediatrician’s files. He was clearly affiliated with the Project.” 

Jane inhaled sharply. 

“He still had seventeen kids on PsyPress as of last week.” Eva added. She paused. “By any chance, Mike, do you know the Tozier family?” 

Mike frowned. “Yeah, Uncle Wentworth and Aunt Maggie and my cousin Richie. Why?” 

“You’re cousin was one of the kids that was briefly prescribed PsyPress, which isn’t entirely surprising. We know there is a strong genetic component to psychic abilities, we know they are inherited.” 

Mike looked at her, shocked. “Really? He’s psychic?” 

Eva nodded. “Evidently.” She hesitated, wondering if she should ask him if he knew anything about the abuse… no. Not now. 

Mike sat back. “I should probably visit them.” He sounded resigned. “I hate my entire family. Except my sisters. And my cousin.” 

“So you hate the adults then.” Max told him. He shrugged. 

“Nah, I’ve got some other cousins, too, and they’re pretty awful. They live in Texas.” 

Eva frowned. “Well, if you want to see your cousin-” she recited an address- “he’s apparently staying semi-permanently with a friend. The Urises.”

“Thanks.” 

Jane cocked her head and addressed Eva. “Do you want us to look for kids and talk to them?” 

Eva exhaled. “Yes, that’d be wonderful. I hate to send you off so soon, you can stay here while you’re in Derry, but I have to head to the office. I’m arranging treatment for a patient.” 

She rubbed her temples, muttered something about terrible heartless mothers, and left the room. 

Mike sighed. “Might as well go talk to my aunt and uncle. And see about visiting my cousin, too.” 

“I’ll go with you.” El offered immediately. Mike smiled at her gratefully. 

The two of them left the house, leaving the others to discuss some kind of strategy. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ben was the first to notice. 

There was something in the bushes. 

“Guys…?” 

“What?” Bev turned toward him. 

It sprang out of the bushes and knocked Eddie to the ground, shaped like the leper, drooling. Eddie screamed and burst into flames, and It leapt off of him, turning towards the others, hissing with displeasure. 

It shifted shape, now in the form of Alvin Marsh, and lunged toward Bev. Ben was perfectly prepared to jump in front of her- he didn’t have a plan for after that, but- he didn’t need to. 

Bev threw her hand out and lightning crackled through the air, striking It, which stumbled back snarling. 

It glared at them, shifting to clown form. “I’m going to kill you all!” It shrieked. “Rip you limb from limb, make you float! You’ll die!” 

“F-F-F-F-FUCK YOU!” Bill yelled angrily. 

It turned toward him, smiling big. “Did you like the nightmares, Billy Boy?” It turned to Richie. “What about you? Did you have fun?” 

Richie’s eyes hardened and he glowered at the monster. “What Bill said.” 

It’s smirk dropped and it started to morph. No one caught more than a brief glimpse of whoever it was turning into before Richie let out a howl and swept his hand through the air, flinging It into a tree. 

They were beating It, and It knew that. It knew when It was beaten. It would retreat, plan, weaken them, and return. 

It fled with a snarl, and the Losers, relieved, collapsed onto the ground and sat together, beaming. 

They’d won the battle, but knew the war was far from over. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Losers had eventually decided to head home, or in Richie’s case, Stan’s house, and in Eddie’s case, Bill’s house. 

Richie and Stan arrived back to find that there were guests who were chatting with Andrea and Donald. Both teenagers, one of whom strongly resembled Richie. 

Richie gaped. “Mike?” 

“Hey, Richie.” Mike returned. 

Stan blinked, confused. Richie glanced at him. “Mike’s my cousin.” he explained, before turning to Mike. “What are you doing in Derry?” 

Mike smiled a little. “A friend of my girlfriend’s called her, so I decided to come along and visit you guys.”

Richie’s eyes narrowed. “And how’d you know I was here?” 

Jane spoke up now. “Eva told us.” 

“The doctor? Dr. Morgen?” Stan asked. His father gave him a mildly scolding look. 

“Yeah.” Mike replied, apparently not taking offense. 

Well, he  _ was _ one of the most awkward people on the fricking planet, so… 

One long conversation later, Mike and El took their leave and Stan and Richie went upstairs. Whereupon Richie finally had his rather long-awaited panic attack from It starting to turn into Hockstetter. 

Stan calmed him down, soothingly rubbing Richie’s arms, brutally aware that he was in no way equipped to help Richie with this. 

_ He needs a therapist _ . 

Stan swallowed. There was something that sure as  _ fuck _ was never happening. Not unless they could find one with a good ability to cope with supernatural shit, and could convince Richie to actually go to them. 

Ha. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bev sat, hands shaking, on her bed. Oh God. Every time she closed her eyes all she saw was her father rushing toward her with that smile on his face. 

Now all she could think about was him.  _ Are you still my little girl? _

_ No. Not anymore. Leave me alone, you’re dead! You’re dead and you can’t hurt me anymore! YOU’RE DEAD! _

She broke down now, crying, falling onto her back and rolling to bury her face in her pillow and sob and sob and sob. 

_ You’re dead, dead, dead, dead, _

She didn’t even know who she was talking about anymore. 

Her father? Her mother who she barely remembered? Henry Bowers? Those girls who had helped Gretta and Sally torment her? Patrick Hockstetter- she’d never even really interacted with him. Peter Hale?

_ dead dead dead dead dead dead dead oh god oh God we are going to die _

No.  _ No, you know what, this is It talking. This is It talking to me,  _ lying _ to me, and I will not listen.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I… am so sorry about that fight scene. It was terrible. I am really, really bad at that stuff.   
> But I hope you liked the rest! Thanks to stanlonbrough for suggesting that It attack them. :)   
> Also, no kidding, Stan. You *all* need a therapist.


	19. i’m rising up (been down and out but i won't stay down)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Losers demand an explanation for Patrick Hockstetter’s murder. El visits Dr. Handor in the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Chapter title from I Won't Stay Down by VERIDIA. Amazing song, I recommend giving it a listen.

The next morning, the Losers once again went to the Quarry with the intention of practicing. They spent maybe half an hour actually practicing, while four out of seven wondered again about Patrick Hockstetter and why the holy fuck Richie had something against him so bad he needed to get murdered. 

It was Eddie who asked. 

“Hey, Richie?” 

Richie looked up from where he was flopped on the grass, staring at the sky. 

“What?” 

“I have a question.” 

Richie propped himself on his elbows and stared at Eddie. 

Eddie took a deep breath. “Why did you and Stan kill Hockstetter?” 

Richie flinched, eyes wide, and his elbows went out from under him. He sat up wincing and rubbing his elbows and staring at Eddie. 

Stan moved to sit next to Richie, rubbing his shoulder reassuringly. He leaned closer and whispered, “You can tell them, Richie, they won’t be mad.” 

Richie swallowed hard, shaking. Looked at the others. Bev gave him a reassuring smile. The rest of them just looked confused and worried. 

“In the… last timeline,” he began, “he, uh, he-” Richie drew in a sharp breath and blurted it out. “He raped me.” 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

El walked briskly into the hospital, following something Hopper had once told her. If you act like you belong, or you know what you’re doing, they’ll let you in. 

Granted, this was a hospital, and they’d probably let her in regardless, but… 

“Hi, I’m here to visit Dr. Russ Handor?” she addressed the receptionist. Her English was still not  _ great _ , but a lot better than it had been, and she could generally string together complete sentences in a timely manner. 

There were days when she just  _ couldn’t _ get words out, but Mike was good at interpreting what she tried to say. 

“Ah, he hasn’t had any visitors yet! How wonderful! He’s in Room 225.” 

“Thank you.” El said politely. 

The stairs were nearly empty, which was good. She hated hospitals with a passion- they always made her think of the Lab. 

_ needles pain white bright fear dark cold pain pain pain _

She had to take deep breaths on the way up, pulling her T-shirt over her nose and mouth and trying not to hyperventilate. 

She walked down the second-floor hallway, watching the room numbers tick by, until she reached Room 225. 

Jane entered the room with a cold look on her face and shut the door with a little jerk of her head. Dr. Handor stared at her, wrapped thoroughly in bandages and clearly badly-injured. 

“Do you recognize me?” 

“No.” he croaked. 

She walked closer to the bed, pulling up her sleeve. “How about now?” she asked, baring the tattoo to him. 

He went very tense. 

She smiled, a predatory expression, and dropped her sleeve. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re hurt enough, I think.” 

“What do you want?” he rasped. 

“I want to tell you that my friends and I are going to tell every single person you put on PsyPress. We are going to tell them the truth and make sure they know not to trust you. Eva will spread the word through all her doctor friends. We are going to ruin you, Dr. Handor.” 

He stared at her in silent horror. 

She smiled again and walked out. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Richie was… not entirely sure what had just happened. 

One second everyone had been staring at him in pure and utter horror, the next he was the center of a group hug. 

And he was crying. 

_ Oh, fuck. _

Bill was stroking his hair and Bev’s lips were pressed against his forehead and Stan was rubbing his back reassuringly and Eddie and Mike and Ben were hugging him tight. 

They were all horrified. Even Stan and Bev, who’d already known, were horrified. As for the others… well, Bill was already blaming himself. Even  _ without _ knowing that Richie had allowed it to happen to protect his friends. Eddie was trying to figure out how the  _ fuck _ no one had noticed. 

Honestly, the only reason anyone had really picked up on anything being wrong this time was because they had powers which responded to their emotions. 

A scary, terrifying, and gut-churning thought presented itself to Eddie- okay, Patrick had raped Richie. Did that mean once, or twice, or a lot? Was it ongoing abuse, or something that had happened once? No matter what it was awful, but… it was probably easier to miss it if it had only happened once. 

_ God. _

Eddie laid his cheek on Richie’s shoulder and realized that Richie was crying, sobs wracking his body. How long had he been hiding this, trying to deal with it alone? 

Well, he wasn’t going to be anymore. 

Stan ended up elaborating while Richie hid his face in Bev’s back. And Stan’s longer explanation really helped the others get even more angry, sad, and sickened. 

Nearly  _ eight fucking months _ of consistent and violent sexual abuse. 

Bev also quietly revealed that she’d known since last Monday. 

They all ended up going to Bill’s house together, and those whose parents/guardians gave a shit called home. 

Because they sure as fuck weren’t leaving Richie alone. After telling them he’d gone really quiet and clingy, so they really knew how badly it affected him. 

Plus, you know, there was this little tidbit of a conversation: 

Richie was lying on Bill’s bed, eyes shut. Eddie was petting his hair silently. Richie apparently decided the silence needed to be broken, because he abruptly decided to drop the following bombshell. 

“I tried to kill myself.”

Bill sat up. “W-what?”

“I tried to kill myself.” Richie repeated. 

“It's true.” Stan said softly. “About a year before we were sent back. I found him. I- I called 911, but it was almost too late.”

Eddie curled his fingers gently into Richie's hair, trembling. Bill scooted closer to Richie and took his hand, shaking and wishing he had the courage to tell Richie the truth.  _ You are so loved, Richie, please, don't ever _ . 

Everyone moved a little closer, holding hands and leaning against each other. 

“I love you.” Bev said suddenly. “All of you. So much.” 

She was crying a little as she said it. Ben kissed her cheek, smiling. He understood. How could he not? He was one of the most loving people ever. 

Bill looked at her for a long time. “I-Is it normal?” he asked finally. “To luh-l-love six people like th-th-this?”

“I don't know. And I don't care.” Eddie's voice was fierce. “We deserve it, right? To be happy?”

Richie sat up. “I think we do.” he said quietly. 

Bill looked at him for a moment, then he leaned forward and kissed Richie, brief and chaste. Richie closed his eyes, lips curling into a smile as Bill pulled away. 

Bev beamed at the others, still a little teary-eyed, as Bill quietly kissed each of them. Then she kissed the others, who all followed suit, smiling uncontrollably at one another. 

Happy. They felt happy, like maybe they had a future beyond It. Something to fight toward. 

Something to live for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE HAVE OT7! This was probably incredibly bad, but I'm shitty at romancey stuff and I wrote the last couple paragraphs on my phone. Thanks to Anonymous for suggesting that the Losers find out about the rape and suicide attempt.


	20. such a lovely denial (when you're dying but you tell ‘em that it's not that bad)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Losers go to school. Eva and the Party ponder the missing kids. And we prepare for the final battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic might actually be done in a few chapters! (And I never finish my WIPs).  
> Chapter title from Cheshire Smile by VERIDIA.

****

Richie woke up with a start, tangled up with the others in Bill’s bed (in other words, it was really fucking crowded and they were all tangled together, lying on top of one another, snuggled together in a way only truly close, trusting people can). 

It was getting close to seven in the morning, and they’d need to go to school soon. And he really had to pee. 

He wriggled free, waking several of the others up on his way out of the pile, and made his way to the bathroom. 

Stan also sat up, took one look at the clock, and swore. “School. And we just have our clothes from yesterday- that we slept in. Except Bill and Eddie.” 

“Uh-oh.” Bev glanced down at her rumpled clothes as Richie reentered the room. 

“Uh-oh, what?” Richie asked. 

Stan sighed. “We have school, and only Bill and Eddie can change. Unless we want everyone seeing us wearing Bill’s clothes, because of all of us only Bev could  _ maybe  _ fit in Eddie’s clothes.” 

Richie quietly choked, along with Eddie and Ben. 

“Stan, who knew you were into that!” Richie managed, trying to distract from his reaction. Stan rolled his eyes. 

“Beep beep Richie.” he snapped. 

Bill took over at this point. “Y-y-you guys can g-g-go to s-school in the c-clothes y-you’re wearing…”

“Not like any of us are the height of popularity.” Bev remarked, rolling her eyes. “Most it’ll be is some teasing for how rumpled up they are.” She paused. 

“It’ll be worse for you though.” Ben said softly. 

“I can handle it.” 

“You shouldn’t have to.” 

Bev shrugged. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nobody really noticed that the Losers wore clothes that they’d worn yesterday, largely because nobody had seen them yesterday. 

This was a relief. Plus, aside from sixth period, at least one Loser was in every one of Richie’s classes. Which was good for their newfound overprotective instincts. Not that Richie minded. It was nice, actually, having six extremely overprotective friends. 

More than friends, now, but… 

Boyfriends and girlfriend? 

Man, the logistics of this. 

School was rough even without Bowers and Hockstetter, and with a fair number of subdued kids. 

In the original timeline, there had been roughly three hundred and fifty students. Four hundred kids total. 

One  _ hundred _ of those children had died. 

Thus far, maybe fifteen kids had disappeared and the Losers were planning to enter Neibolt House. 

Tonight. 

At lunch, Richie jokingly said, “Maybe I should write a will, huh?” 

“Not funny.” Bev shook her head and patted Richie’s shoulder. Richie laughed. 

“W-we’ll be fine.” Bill said firmly. “W-w-we’ll k-kill it and g-g-get th-the hell out.” 

Eddie quietly took Bill’s hand. “Yeah.” 

Bill squeezed his hand and they let go, knowing it was a terrible idea for two boys to hold hands in public. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eva was pacing, the kids from Hawkins sitting around her dining-room table, which was covered in missing posters. 

“Fifteen kids.” Eva exhaled, dragging her hands down her face. “Jane, could you try to find them?” 

Jane nodded, untying the bandanna that wrapped around her wrist and retying it around her head. 

“Radio.” she instructed and Mike picked up a radio and turned it on, clicking the dial until there was static. 

Jane focused and found herself in the dark of the Void. She had decided to concentrate on the poster for Alexis Merritt. 

Nothing. 

Darkness. 

A pile of lost objects, a feeling of abject terror. Bodies, torn and floating in the air. Blood dripping. 

A wooden wall in the pile, painted with words. 

PENNYWISE THE DANCING CLOWN. 

Jane saw a body- it was Alexis Merritt. 

She ripped the blindfold off moments later, having caught a glimpse of a  _ thing _ , a creature with many legs. 

Her breaths ripped out of her lungs and she dropped the bandanna, wide-eyed with fear. Mike grabbed her shoulders as she swayed. 

“El?” He pulled her into a hug. 

“They are dead.” El whispered, looking at the rest of the people in the room. Eva inhaled sharply. 

El swallowed. “And there’s a monster. In the sewers.” 

“Shit.” Mike mumbled. “And my cousin lives here. Shit.” 

Dustin took his hat off and ran his hand through his curls. “Shit.” 

“Okay, we agree this is very ‘shit’-worthy, can you all stop and maybe use some creativity in your swear words?” Max demanded. 

“Fuck.” Steve offered. Max groaned. 

“Dammit.” she muttered. 

Will tilted his head. “What are we gonna do?” 

There was silence. 

Lucas groaned. “We’re gonna go fight it, aren’t we.” 

Mike sighed. “My  _ cousin _ lives here.” 

El made a stubborn face. “Kill the monster.” she said intently. 

“Okay, whatever.” Lucas sighed. “Monster number three, why not.” 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After school, the Losers all briefly dropped by home (collecting weapons) before heading for Neibolt. 

Unfortunately, Mike and El had gone to check on Richie real quick. 

The Urises just said that he and Stan had gone ‘down to Neibolt Street’ with their friends. 

El nearly screamed then and there, and as soon as the two were down the street she told Mike, “Bad place, bad place, that street’s a bad place, the monster-” 

“Shit!” Mike yelped, and they raced for Eva’s. 

The rest of their group was horrified, and they all piled into the truck, armed, and raced for Neibolt. 

Unfortunately, the Losers were already inside Number 29. 

El could tell which house was the most dangerous,  _ and _ which house the kids had gone into, and… 

Suffice to say, Mike was freaking out. Heck, they were  _ all _ freaking out. 

“Why the  _ fuck _ would they go into a random abandoned house?” Mike demanded as they walked up the steps. 

Jane was trembling, but she felt traces of… power. Ancient power, soaking into the steps. Filling the air. 

The house was cold.  _ Turn back, turn back _ . 

They were all shivering as they entered the house. “Something’s wrong. Very wrong.” Eva said. 

El nodded. “The house is cold.” 

They all froze. The walls of the entry hall were plastered with posters. Missing posters. All the kids that had thus far disappeared or died, plus Richie and his six friends, plus a little boy identified by Eva as George Denbrough. 

The posters dripped with blood. 

Will inhaled sharply and pointed at an open doorway into the kitchen. 

The room was trashed, but that wasn't why Will was freaking out. 

There were dead bodies, grinning nightmarishly at them. Soaked in blood. The missing kids and worse.

Barbara Holland. Benny. Bob Newby. Dr. Brenner. 

Mike's cousin Richie. 

Jane's mother and aunt. Kali. Nancy and Holly. Jonathan. Dustin's mom. Erica Sinclair. Lucas’ parents. Joyce. Hopper. 

Bloodsoaked and teeth bared in gruesome smiles. 

_ Oh God.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A la Patrick's movie death scene, in other words. This is completely unedited and i again wrote the last part on my phone, so I apologize for any mistakes. (And by completely unedited I mean I didn’t even check for spelling errors… oops). Hope you enjoyed!  
> Edit: hehe there's 69 kudos on this


	21. love is gonna win the fight fear is gonna run and hide (we’re not afraid we’re not afraid)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Final Battle, from many POVs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, this is not yet the end of the story. Chapter title from We Are the Brave by VERIDIA (yes I do use a lot of their lyrics, I’m a little obsessed, you should give them a listen)

It… had not expected the others. It was most unfortunate that It would need to direct even a small portion of Itself into the house to prevent those others from reaching the sewers and assisting the Seven. 

Perhaps It could simply keep the basement sealed? No access to the Well? 

That should keep those others out. 

It sealed the basement and removed the bodies and posters, before directing all of Its attention to the Seven. Lucky indeed, hah! They would be dead soon, the Turtle’s little champions. Dead. 

The Losers didn’t notice the basement sealing up. They were already in the sewers. 

Stan clutched at Richie’s hand, breathing thin and fast. Richie squeezed his hand reassuringly as the seven of them walked, gripping hands and belt loops and shirts, clinging to each other in hopes of not being separated. 

Bill led the way through the sewers, occasionally checking in with Eddie to see which way to go next. 

The air grew colder, dank and chilly. All seven of them shivered, casting wary looks about them, keeping their eyes peeled for signs of It. 

“A-almost there.” Bill whispered. 

Stan swallowed hard, squeezing Richie’s hand. Richie glanced at him, clearly worried, and Stan forced a smile. 

The sewers were filthy. Bones were scattered around and everyone winced and stepped over them. 

There. The archway that led into Its lair. Rotting bodies floating in the air, drifting around the massive jumble of lost objects. 

The Losers walked in. There was no sign of It. 

“HEY PENNYWISE Y-Y-YOU DICKBAG! C-C-C-COME AND FIGHT US!” 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the rotting bodies and posters vanished, they all blinked. 

“Okay, Jane, we need to find those kids.” Eva took charge. El nodded and put her blindfold on again, and Mike got out the radio. 

She entered the Void, searching for Mike’s cousin since he’d be easiest to find. 

The sewers, deep inside the sewers, armed with a baseball bat, accompanied by his friends, all of them armed. 

Bill Denbrough was at their head, face flushed and rage in his eyes. “WHERE ARE YOU, YOU B-BASTARD? COME OUT AND FUH-F-FIGHT US ASSHOLE!” 

She stared in horror as the seven kids, all looking some combination of angry and afraid, ranged out, weapons in hand, teeth bared, vicious expressions on their faces. 

A clown stepped out of the pile. “Here I am, B-B-Billy!” the clown crooned. “I see you brought the whole gang, how nice!” 

El ripped the blindfold off, numb with terror. “They’re fighting the monster in the sewers!” she cried. 

“What?” Steve demanded. “How did they already get down there?” 

“There’s a legend.” Eva said thoughtfully. “The Well House. It was said to be in this area, and connected to the sewers. One day all the townspeople vanished and the only clue was a trail of bloody clothes leading to the Well House.” 

“Maybe this is the Well House.” Will said softly. “It certainly feels… bad.” 

“We have to help them.” Mike said firmly. “Find the way they got down to the sewers.” 

Everyone agreed, if a bit reluctantly, and started searching the house. 

Too bad there was no longer a door into the basement. 

Or they would have seen the well. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Losers faced It, and It smiled at them gleefully. 

“I’m glad you made it.” the monster snickered. “I have treats for all the good boys and girls!” 

“F-Fuck you!” Bill spat, hefting the metal bar in his hands. “We’re g-g-gonna kill you y-y-you bastard.” 

“Or I will kill all of you! The Turtle’s mighty champions!” Pennywise sneered. 

“Turtle?” Bev asked, confused. 

Pennywise cackled. “Time to float!” 

And the battle commenced. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There wasn’t any way into the sewers from here, and Mike ended up punching a wall. 

“Easy.” Eva said, giving the wall a worried look. Mike had successfully punched a hole in the wall with no visible damage to his fist, his powers raging under the surface thanks to his current emotional turmoil. 

Mike hissed out one angry swear word and glared at the wall, before freezing. “There’s a hole.” 

Lucas gave him a weird look. “Yeah, you just made it.” 

“No, I mean-” Mike dug his hand into the wall and pulled at the hole, widening it and revealing a staircase leading down. 

“Oh!” Max yelped. “There’s a basement!” 

Mike nodded, making a hole big enough for them all to get through. He stepped onto the stairs and immediately saw the well. And the rope that went down into it. 

“Guys! A well!” he called, and the others quickly followed him in. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The fight was vicious, and It had managed to toss Richie into a wall. He rolled over, groaning, and clutching his ribs. A dull ache flared up and he remembered last time. It had viciously slammed him into the ground and he thought it was highly possible that a rib had fractured, but he’d never done anything about it. 

“Owwwww.” he whimpered, pushing himself upright again and flinging himself back into the fight. 

It kept shapeshifting and the Losers kept fighting it. At one point it morphed into Patrick and Richie in response used his powers to catapult a large baby carriage from the pile at It before stumbling into the wall, head throbbing, nose bleeding. 

He cupped a hand under his nose, startled to see blood. 

It turned into Alvin Marsh and Bev screamed, lighting crackling around her fists, and she threw out both hands as It charged toward her. It flew backward, crashing into the pile, and everyone charged forward again, even Richie, who was now ignoring his bloody nose to participate in the fight. 

Again the battle turned vicious, desperation rampant on both sides. 

Pennywise was pulling out every stop now, every fear It could exploit, but the Losers stood firm. 

Finally, It turned into the Spider-It. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike was the first to approach the Well, cautious. The others followed, El sticking close to his side. 

“A rope.” Lucas murmured. “They must have used this route.”

Will glanced around. “This place just  _ feels _ evil.”

They all moved to surround the well, staring down into it. 

“Well.” Mike said finally, and he grabbed the rope and swung himself into the well. 

El quickly followed, and then the others, somewhat reluctantly. 

They entered the sewers. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Spider-It hissed eagerly, telling them that they were going to die, that It would rend their flesh and rip out their hearts. 

Bill lifted his pipe, expression flatly vicious. “No. We’re gonna kill you.” 

It hissed and charged towards them, and the seven of them rushed at It. They clashed violently, weapons slamming into It, and It tossed back some of them, retreating with a hiss, and Bill and Richie, the only ones still upright, pursued it, chasing It, weapons in hand. 

Bev pushed herself upright, breath sobbing out of her, terrified. She scrambled to her feet, then saw Eddie crumpled against the pile, blood trickling out of his mouth. 

“Eddie!” she cried, rushing toward him, crashing to her knees beside him. He stirred, opening his eyes. 

“Bev?” he slurred, looking dazed, and the others raced over. Mike propped Eddie up and looked at the others, anxious. 

“What do we do?” 

Stan took charge. This wasn’t remotely supernatural- just an injured friend. “We have to figure out if it’s internal bleeding or if he cut his mouth.” 

“Eddie, honey.” Bev cupped Eddie’s cheek. “Can you tell?” 

Eddie slowly shook his head. 

“Open your mouth.” Stan suggested. “Let us look.” 

Eddie obeyed and Stan leaned over to take a look, gently swabbing the inside of Eddie’s mouth. Eddie winced and squeaked and Stan sat back with a relieved look on his face, wiping his bloody finger on his pants. “There’s a cut in his mouth. He might have a concussion too.” 

Bev exhaled. “Oh thank God- where’d Richie and Bill go?” 

Ben shot an uncertain look into the darkness. “They followed It.” 

Meanwhile, Richie and Bill pursued It through the darkness, hands linked and weapons lifted. They could hear It hissing and scuttling away from them, snarling and filled with rage. 

It had direly miscalculated. 

_ Direly _ miscalculated. 

It could retreat, hide, heal Itself and wait, but It was being pursued. 

“Stubborn little children.” it hissed. “You will lose.” 

They rushed It, and It lashed out again- Richie let out a cry in the darkness and Bill screamed, punching It, dropping his pipe, and punching it over and over again. 

It’s flesh was breaking apart and Bill reached into Its chest, wrapping his hands around Its heart. 

“No!” it hissed. “Leave, and I’ll leave you alone! I’ll leave you alone, I will, I swear it!” 

Bill’s eyes narrowed. Richie might be dead- he couldn’t hear Richie, couldn’t see him or anything. Any of the others might have been killed from being tossed back. He couldn’t leave It alone, he knew that much. 

He squeezed his hands together, tears streaming down his face, feeling the heart crushed in his hands, and then he staggered backward as It collapsed. 

He turned. “Richie!” he cried, stumbling around, searching, until his foot touched something- he crashed to his knees, reaching out, hands finding Richie’s face. “Richie, wake up, wake up.” he begged. 

There was no response from Richie, but Bill pressed two fingers against the side of Richie’s throat and felt a pulse, so, crying, he scooped Richie up (hating how light the other boy was) and carried him in the direction they’d come from, at least he was pretty sure that was the right way. 

Back with the others, Ben got up and went the direction that Bill and Richie had gone, worried. He practically crashed into them, and Bill jumped back. 

“Bill?” Ben asked tentatively. 

“Y-yeah!” Bill’s voice shook. “H-help me with R-Richie-” 

“What happened?” Ben demanded, reaching out to help Bill carry Richie. 

“He g-g-got knocked into th-th-the wall-” 

“Owww…” Richie’s voice was uneven and thready. 

“Richie!” Bill cried, stumbling and nearly falling. He and Ben helped Richie stand, worried. Richie wobbled and leaned heavily on Bill, who wrapped an arm around his waist. 

The three of them made their way back out of the darkness to discover that the kids were floating down and the pile was crumbling. 

“We need to go.” Stan’s voice was sharp. “The chamber’s going to start coming down.” 

Bill nodded and started hurrying toward the exit, helping Richie. Mike was half-carrying Eddie, and Bev, Stan, and Ben followed quickly. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile Eva, Steve, and the Party were hurrying through the sewers, listening to the ominous rumbles. 

They knew they needed to hurry. 

They didn’t expect to literally crash into the kids, who were practically running through the sewers. 

“Whoa!” Steve stabilized the blond kid with the curly hair, who’d run headlong into him. 

“Sorry!” the boy panted, probably instinctively (because if not, one would have to question how often and why the kid would have crashed into people while running through the sewers). 

“What the fuck!” Mike’s cousin Richie whispered loudly, leaning heavily on Bill Denbrough with blood running down the side of his face. 

“I’m asking you the same thing.” Dustin said, staring at Richie. 

“It’s a l-l-long and complicated s-st-story.” Bill said, tightening his arm around Richie. 

“Let’s get out of here, go to my office, patch you guys up, and hear it.” Eva said firmly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that bit with Richie and Bill being the ones to chase It was totally lifted from the book when they were adults fighting It. So was Eddie getting injured and Ben being the one to go try to find Richie and Bill. And the chamber coming down.   
> Wow, we’re getting close to done! I’m picturing two more chapters, one to wrap everything up and one to check in on them in the future. Hope you all enjoyed, and let me know what kind of things you’d want to see in the next chapter or in the epilogue!


	22. this is our time no turning back (we could live we could live like legends)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Losers get patched up and tell their story. Dr. Morgen pulls some strings. The Losers get a happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because why the fuck wouldn’t I give them a happy ending? This is a fix-it fic!   
> Also, yes, I looked up ‘does maine get earthquakes’ before writing this chapter. And I may or may not have Midwesternized some of the speech- sorry, I’m from Indiana.   
> Chapter title from Live Like Legends by Ruelle.

They made it to Dr. Morgen’s office without getting questioned, although the mild earthquakes may have had something to do with that- earthquakes were uncommon in Maine, and earthquakes you could feel were even rarer. Hopefully, the Losers all thought, that chamber was unnecessary in the structure of the town and it coming down wouldn’t bring down town center. 

It ended up being Richie and Eddie who needed the most patching up, but Dr. Morgen came to the same conclusion Stan had when it came to Eddie- no internal bleeding, but his mouth was cut up. 

Richie had a concussion. Actually, Eddie did too, and all of them had bruises and cuts and scrapes and scratches. 

“Okay.” Dr. Morgen exhaled and straightened. “Time for an explanation, guys.” 

The Losers exchanged looks. Then Stan took charge. 

“We’re time travelers.” 

The older people stared at him blankly. 

“We traveled back in time from 1992.” Stan hesitated. “In the, uh, last timeline, we fought It, the monster in the sewers, in August 1989, next year I guess.” 

Blank looks from the others. 

“You’re telling us…” Mike Wheeler said slowly, “that you time traveled back four years?” 

“…yes?” 

Steve put his face in his hands and muttered something. The Losers exchanged looks. 

“So this monster.” Lucas said. 

“It feeds off of fear and eats children.” Richie summarized. Stan elbowed him gently, which still made Richie wince, followed by a quiet apology from Stan. 

“How about you start at the beginning?” Dr. Morgen suggested. 

They did. They explained about how Georgie had disappeared, and how Bill had thrown himself into searching for him, for months. How at the end of the school year they’d started to befriend each other. 

The attacks that they’d all survived, the one difference between them and the dead ones. 

How Stan had been attacked in his father’s office- he couldn’t go in there anymore, the painting terrified him, he was on edge, jumping at shadows, the lady’s terrible grin floating at the edge of his vision- 

How Eddie had been chased by the leper through Number 29’s yard, and he’d seen the clown, the balloons, taunting him- 

How Mike had seen the melting hands clawing their way out of the meat locker, how the fire and smoke had billowed outward, how voices had cried out until the door opened and something hung at the other end of the room- 

How Ben had seen the Easter eggs, in a trail, how the headless boy had chased him through the archives- 

How Bev had heard the voices in her sink, and the blood gushing out like a sliced artery, blood coating the walls and her, and her father unseeing the scarlet dripping liquid- 

How Bill had seen Georgie, running through the house hiding in the basement smiling at Bill and telling him  _ you’ll float too _ , and the clown racing at him so he’d run up the stairs and slammed the door- 

These individual attacks were horrifying, but then the kids started talking about how the monster knew what they were most afraid of, and used it. 

“We stopped most of the deaths, I think.” Ben was staring past them, at the wall, rather blankly. “Some people died who didn’t before, but-” 

The Losers moved on to the projector, how the clown had emerged from the screen and nearly killed Bev. 

“And then, like a lunatic, Bill decided to go fight It at the house.” Richie scoffed. “And like idiots, we all followed him.” 

Bill flushed red. 

Eddie took over this part of the story. “Three of us went into the house- Bill, Richie, and me. Richie found a missing poster of him in the, uh, living room I think it was.” 

Richie remembered his panic and swallowed, shifting his weight. Stan took his hand and laced their fingers together silently. 

Eddie continued. “We heard Betty Ripsom calling for help upstairs and we went up. Then we saw her in another room, and she got pulled out of view, and I couldn’t breathe so I got out my inhaler and Bill and Richie kept walking to see what was happening and I saw the hallway stretching and someone was saying my name and-” Eddie broke off, grabbed his inhaler, and wheezed for a minute. Once he recovered, he continued. “The door slammed shut in between us and the floor fell in and the leper was right behind me, and I fell into the kitchen and broke the table and my arm.” 

Dr. Morgen frowned. Depending on what kind of time travel, exactly- but that was a thought for another time. 

Time. Heh. 

Bill took over for this part of the story. “Wh-when the door sl-slammed sh-shut I-I started trying to o-o-o-o-open it-” he was clearly struggling to get the words out, looking frustrated. “Th-then RIchie saw something in a-a-an-another room and went in th-there-” 

“I saw Eddie.” Richie interjected. Bill nodded and went on. 

“Th-th-the door to that r-r-r-room slammed and Richie and I sp-sp-spent a while trying to g-g-get it open b-b-b-but he g-g-got distracted-?” 

Richie cringed. Clearly, it was his turn to speak, and tell what had happened in the Clown Room. “Yeah, there were a bunch of sheets draped over stuff, and they fell off, and the room was full of fake clowns. I-” here he paused, brow furrowing. “I think they were laughing.” 

This creepy little tidbit, thus far not known by anyone, made everyone shiver. 

Richie continued his story. “Then I turned back to the door and there was a clown between me and the door, that’s why I screamed, Bill.” 

Bill mouth  _ ‘oh’ _ with a look of dawning comprehension. That scream had terrified him. 

Richie went on. “Then some more cloth fell off of a coffin at the other end of-” he stopped and swallowed. “of the room.” 

“A coffin?” Mike Wheeler demanded. 

Richie looked over at his cousin. “Yeah. Um, then the coffin opened by itself, and, uh, the missing poster? The one from downstairs, it was on the inside of the lid. And there was blood-” he hesitated. “There was blood painted in a word-” 

“It was fond of that, huh.” Bev mused, having had to scrub her ceiling. 

Richie frowned at her. “The word was  _ found _ , and I walked over to it-” 

“Why?” asked Max. 

Richie blinked. “Uh, I’m a curious person?” A beat, then he went on with his story. “Um, there was a body- a puppet, actually, of me, inside the coffin, so I slammed it shut and then it opened, and Pennywise jumped out and then Bill got the door open and I ran out and he shut the door in Its face.” 

Bill, Richie, and Eddie went on summarizing the events of Neibolt House, before they moved on, skimming past the fight between Bill and Richie. 

Skipping straight to August and Beverly’s disappearance. 

Now all seven of them took turns telling the story. Telling how Bev had seen the deadlights. 

“What are deadlights?” Dustin asked curiously. 

“We don’t know.” Ben answered. “But-” 

“I saw them.” Stan said in a monotone. “I never want to see them again. Ever.” 

Richie and Mike both scooted closer to Stan, holding his hands tightly. 

Now Ben explained how they’d gone into the sewers, and Stan had gotten separated from them, and then they’d found him- 

“And then,” Eddie interjected, “like an idiot, Bill ran off without the rest of us!” 

“I th-think we’ve established I w-w-w-was not very  _ sane _ that suh-suh-summer.” Bill replied. 

Bev shoved his shoulder. 

Ben kept talking. “We followed him and found Bev floating in the air, but we couldn’t see him. We got Bev down and-” he turned red- “woke her up.” 

Bev blushed too, hands lifting to hide her smile. 

“I s-s-saw Georgie.” Bill said abruptly. “But it w-w-w-wasn’t him. So I sh-shot it with M-Mike’s g-g-gun.” 

Richie took over the story now. “And the rest of us saw this part- uh, It got up again and Bill shot it even though the gun was empty. It worked, I mean, but then It attacked and we fought it for a while and then, uh, well, we beat it.” 

Bill was frowning down at his hands, before he abruptly said, “How m-many of you have looked a-a-a-at your puh-palms since we cuh-came b-buh-buh-back?” 

“I- no?” Richie looked at him, then looked down at his palm. A scar curved over it. “Oh.” 

All of the Losers looked down at their palms, staring at the scars. 

“How?” asked Bev, tracing one of her scars. “We did the blood oath before we time-traveled. How come we still have them?” 

“Maybe…” Ben hesitantly stared at his palms. “Maybe because the blood oath was to come back and kill It, we kept the scars from it?” 

The discussion from there turned to the future- what were the Losers going to do now? Everyone was pretty firm on Richie  _ not _ going back to living with his parents. 

“I know in the last timeline they started treating you better,” Stan said, “but I’d rather you not do what you did last time to cause that.”

Richie half-smiled. “Yeah.” 

“I might be able to do something.” Dr. Morgen said, and then she refused to explain. 

It wasn’t until the next day that they learned what she’d done. She’d arranged for the Urises to have foster guardianship of Richie, and Richie’s parents had been arrested. Richie was more that a little bit overwhelmed by this new development, but the Urises were delighted. 

The Losers settled into life after It. There were a lot fewer bullies at school, and after everything they’d been through, the Losers weren’t about to let bullies ruin their days. 

Richie eventually settled into the Uris’ house. He shared Stan’s room, yes, which, well, some of the stuff that happened in there was better left to the imagination. 

Be settled into life with her aunt, which was a lot better than life with her dad. 

Then Dr. Morgen provided yet another surprise- the suggestion that they see her therapist, Dr. Roberts. 

“He’s experienced with the supernatural.” she told them. Stan, Ben, and Mike warmed to the suggestion immediately and set to work convincing the others. 

Eddie, who was already undergoing treatment over everything his mother had done with the pills and all, flatly refused to go, or believe that anything was ‘wrong’ with him. 

Bill was uncertain and didn’t really think it would help. 

Bev didn’t want to talk about her father with someone she didn’t trust. 

And Richie flat-out refused to discuss any of his traumas with even the Losers. 

But after the other three started going, Bill relented. Dr. Roberts took the whole ‘time travel and eldritch abominations’ thing surprisingly well, and after a few weeks, Bev was convinced too. 

Eddie and Richie remained the only holdouts. 

(although Eddie secretly promised himself that after his treatment was through he would go.) 

Richie caved after a panic attack in the middle of math class which had been debilitating to the point where he had to go home. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So slowly, the Losers started piecing their lives together, working on their mental health, their newfound relationship, their schoolwork. 

Life after It was… good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A heavily narration-based chapter with some dialogue. The last chapter is the epilogue.   
> Wow, almost done! This has been amazing and I’m very grateful to you all. Even if you’re a ghost reader. (You know, you read every chapter but never leave a comment or kudos).


	23. i can hardly believe there’s no way that i’m asleep (feels like i’m a dreamer holding wonderland’s key)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue- twenty-seven years later. In which Stan does not take a bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter… surprisingly sad and terrifying. I think I’m probably screaming into the void here, but if you have a tumblr, come find me! My tumblr is cassandra-starflower  
> (For those of you reading i’m begging you to keep on haunting me, yes I’m writing chapter three, but it’s gonna be a while, I have a new project that I’m very excited about!)   
> Chapter title from Crazy in a Good Way by VERIDIA (yes, again, I’m obsessed).

Stan woke up slowly, alone in the bed. This was unusual. He was normally the first one awake, or, well, second. (Mike always got up ridiculously early.  _ Farm people _ .) 

Stan got up in mild panic before remembering that it was a Saturday and he didn’t have work. 

_ Gah. _

“Morning!” Richie chirped from the doorway. Stan slowly turned and fixed him with a stare. 

“Why didn’t anyone wake me up?” 

“Well, you’ve been getting up at ridiculous times of the morning every day, so we decided to just… let you sleep.” 

Stan groaned softly, raking his fingers through his hair. Richie eyed him worriedly. 

“Did we do something wrong by not waking you up?” he asked. 

Stan shook his head. “No, you’re fine, I could probably use the extra sleep.” 

Richie broke into a smile and pulled Stan into a hug. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike was making breakfast downstairs, and he turned and smiled at Richie and Stan as they entered the room. “Good morning, Stan!” 

“Morning.” Stan replied, sitting down next to Bill, who looked half-asleep and was nursing a cup of coffee. Stan snagged the mug and took a sip, ignoring Bill’s protests. 

“Get your own mug!” Bill cried, grabbing his mug back. Stan rolled his eyes playfully in response. 

Bev swept into the room with little Andi, her and Ben’s six-year-old daughter. Andi promptly made her way up onto the counter next to Mike in order to watch him make breakfast. He just laughed and ruffled her hair, making her squeak indignantly. 

Anybody looking in on them would see a happy, if highly nontraditional, family. Seven parents and a little girl. 

Maybe if you looked closer, you’d see. Just the little scars. Each of the adults had a scar on each palm. After a few years, Stan’s old scars from the previous timeline had started to appear, faint but there. The others had all gained a few old scars from the old timeline. 

But, things were good. Really good. 

The seven of them had decided to stick together. Given that most of them were off to college, they’d worked out what schools would work best and were still close together. They’d managed to stay at least near one another all through college, had graduated, and had promptly moved in together. 

Richie was currently working at a radio station. Bill was a writer (he had published a fictionalized account of the original timeline, with names changed, entitled IT. The book was quite popular). Bev was a fashion designer and was very popular. Stan was an accountant- a  _ successful _ accountant. Mike was quietly working at the library. Ben was a well-known architect. And Eddie was a doctor. 

Yes, things were good. 

Richie had work and Andi had a playdate, so he volunteered to drop her off on his way in. She was delighted. Her friend’s mother, not so much, 

Okay, so Richie wore a leather jacket and had a few tattoos. It wasn’t a  _ lot _ of tattoos. 

Richie did, however, successfully drop Andi off and head in to work. 

Meanwhile, Bill set to work writing. He was currently working on a book about a serial-killer clown who happened to also be a cannibal. The book was entitled  _ The Red Balloons _ . 

He had been asked many times in the past why he hated clowns so much. He always just cited a traumatic childhood occurrence. One time, his mother had called and asked him when he’d had a traumatic childhood encounter with a clown. 

He did not have an answer for her. 

While Bill wrote, Bev and Ben joined him in the ‘studio’, where they both set to work on fashion designs and building designs, respectively. 

Eddie, Mike, and Stan did not have work or things to do (other than each other). 

(That’s what they ended up doing. It was mildly distracting to the three who were working from home.)

By luck, Richie finished work around the same time Andi’s playdate ended (long playdate, short shift). He swung by to pick her up, too, smiling blandly at her friend’s mother. 

“Andi, playdate’s over!” the woman called, and Andi came running in, pouting overdramatically and jumping into Richie’s arms. 

“Hey, Andi, have fun?” he asked, smiling at her. She beamed and nodded. 

“Thanks for having her.” Richie said automatically, smiling politely at the mother, who just smiled and said it was no problem. 

They’d come a long way, he thought to himself as he drove home, with Andi practically bouncing out of her seat chattering about the playdate. 

They’d come a long way. 

Mike and Ben made dinner (everyone else was kinda hopeless- Bev burned water trying to boil it). 

Richie and Andi arrived home just in time, and Andi raced over to climb on Eddie’s lap and eagerly tell him all about the playdate. 

“Dinner!” Mike called and Eddie scooped Andi up.    
“Time to wash your hands,” he told her, setting her on the stool at the sink. Richie, behind him, laughed softly and plopped down at the table. 

Mike and Ben served dinner and everyone listened to Richie grumble playfully about his coworkers and Andi babble cheerfully about her playdate. 

Happiness, Stan later thought as he got ready for bed, was a very nice thing. 

He climbed into bed with the others, and Richie hummed sleepily and draped an arm over Stan’s waist, and Eddie shifted to lay his head on Stan’s stomach, and Stan smiled. 

Life was good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be somewhat disappointing, and I’m sorry, but mentally I’ve moved on from this story to a new crossover I’m planning out about Project Psychic. If you’re interested in a Stranger Things/IT/MCU crossover with characters from all three involved, which timejumps, and includes a weird timeline and features Eva Morgen (albeit slightly altered), than hey, it should be posted maybe later this week. I've posted about it on my tumblr.   
> Hope you enjoyed this story, and I’m so grateful to everyone who read or even just clicked on this story. It’s one of my most popular stories and I’m so glad you all liked it.


End file.
